Lost and Rendered
by WardenAdalia
Summary: A summery of the Dragon Age tale, leading up to the Blight, and the aftermath. A new king is set to take the throne, but the events at Fort Drakon might change that all. Rated M for later content. F!Cousland storyline. Please review.
1. Chapter 1: Bleeder

**Chapter One**: Bleeder

* * *

"Let the blade pass through the flesh,

Let my blood touch the ground,

Let my cries touch their hearts.

Let mine be the last sacrifice."

_- Andraste 7:12 _

* * *

_ The sound of swords and yelling awoke her, her Mabari hound growling at her door. She threw off her sheets, quickly getting dressed. As she grabbed her boots the door flew open, and a servant ran in, breathing rapidly as though he had been running for his life. He had been. He yelled that the castle was under attack, and disappeared back out the door. Adalia followed, sword in hand. Two men rushed at her, and she met their blows, besting them both. Her mother ran in, armed to the teeth. All Adalia could hear was screaming and the sound of metal against metal. Her mother was speaking to her, pulling on her arm, but everything seemed so distant. The men's armour wore the crest of Arl Rendon Howe, a close friend of her fathers. A traitor. Her mother was pulling harder now, and Adalia moved with her. _

_They passed her brothers room, the body of his wife Oriana, and their young son lay in a pool of blood. _

_"Oren..." Adalia whispered as her mother dragged her past. Her thoughts drifted, thinking of Howe, and seeing him earlier in the day. He had commented on what a lovely young woman she had become, and an uneasy feeling had passed over her. Her father had introduced another man, Duncan, and Howe had seemed uncomfortable, even going as far as commenting on the Grey Wardens surprise arrival. The heroes of legend who saved them all, her father had always referred to the Wardens as, here to choose his youngest child as a candidate for their order. _

_Parts of the castle were on fire, thick smoke filling the air as Arl Howes men continued to attack. A sword skimmed her arm, drawing blood. Pérsēs, her Mabari, had himself attached to a soldiers leg. They were at the front gates, Ser Gilmore and his men trying to prevent more of Howes men from entering. He was yelling at them to get out, to leave it to them. Ser Gilmore and his men were as good as dead. _

_They were running to the larder now, Adalia not having remembered moving from the front entrance. Smoke was filling her lungs and burning her eyes. Servants and knights lay dead at her feet. Friends. Her father was laying on the floor, blood staining his tunic. Adalia rushed to his side, convinced she could help. _

_"Find Fergus, and seek revenge." Bryce Cousland almost begged, holding his daughters small hand within his own. She had forgotten that Fergus had left, and wasn't dead with his wife and child. Her parents were speaking, but she was trying to stop her father from bleeding. She didn't even realize that she was crying. Duncan was there now, Adalia's father begging him to get his wife and daughter out of there. _

_"I won't leave you. I'll kill every bastard that comes through that door to buy them time, but I wont abandon you." Her mother was saying, her face and silver locks smeared with blood. Now Duncan was pulling on her, heading towards the servants exit. Adalia was screaming, crying like a child, trying to pull away and help protect her parents. Her mother was firing arrows as Howes men ran at her. The last thing she heard was her fathers voice. _

_"Do us proud, pup." _

* * *

"Adalia... Adalia." She awoke with a start, Duncan kneeling beside her, shaking her softly. "Time to wake up. We should be at Ostagar by mid-day." Adalia sat up, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. Her face felt damp, as though she had been crying.

"Nightmares about your parents, again?" Duncan asked, his deep brown eyes showing genuine concern.

"Yes. They're getting rather vivid." Adalia responded, rolling up her bedding. Perses was still laying next to the smoldering coals of the fire, snoring peacefully. "I wish I slept as well as he does." She commented, and Duncan laughed softly. They had been traveling for days, Adalia physically exhausted. Finished packing, she woke Perses with a nudge of her foot, and the trio set out on their way, the ruins visible in the distance.


	2. Chapter 2: You've Got So Far to Go

**Chapter Two**: You've Got So Far To Go

Blessed are the righteous, the lights in the shadow.  
In their blood the Maker's will is written.

_-Benedictions 4:11_

* * *

There was activity all around her. Fires blazing, tents being set up, soldiers sparring with one another, their armour freshly polished. The smell of roasting meat enticed her senses, and her stomach began to rumble. She had barely eaten since departing Highever over a week ago, and was now regretting it. As her and Duncan had fled she has stuffed rations in her bag, but her stomach had not been very tolerant. Duncan stopped suddenly, causing her to almost crash into him as he opened his arms in a large arc, presenting the large ruins in front of him.

"Ostagar." He announced proudly. A tall, attractive blonde man in brilliant gold armour approached, and he and Duncan exchanged pleasantries. Duncan introduced Adalia to the proud looking man as his new recruit to the Wardens. The man extended his gauntleted hand.

"Cailan" he said.

"King Cailan Theirin." Duncan interjected. Cailans heavy hand nearly crushed her own as he shook it.

"A pleasure, your Highness." Adalia curtsied. They spoke briefly, Adalia advising the king about what had happened at the Cousland estate, Cailan making promises to help her when the Blight was ended.

"Your brother, Fergus, is out in the Wilds right now with a group of soldiers, scouting. He should be returning shortly. You will have time to speak with him after the battle." Cailan assured her. He bid his farewells, advising that someone was waiting for him, and departed with two well armed soldiers following. Duncan advised her to seek out another Warden, and to fetch him from his tent when she was prepared.

'Prepared for what, exactly?' she pondered as she walked across a long bridge. The ruins stood tall in front of her, the white stone bright under the mid-day sun. If it weren't for all the activity, it would seem almost ghostly. She headed in the direction Duncan had indicated, stopping briefly at the quartermaster. She browsed the limited selection of swords, noticing a young man standing to her right. He was attempting to convince a young female soldier to spend the night in his bedroll, in case they all died in the coming battle. She had a disgusted look on her face, and a hand on the hilt of a short sword belted at her waist. Adalia heard the olive skinned woman say something under her breath and storm away. The man turned, now facing Adalia. He smiled, and approached her.

"Hey pretty lady." His breath smelled of stale beer and salted fish. He was leering at her, and it sent chills down her spine. She quickly scampered away, up a large set of stairs. She could still feel his eyes burning into her back. As she rounded a corner she could hear two male voices, bickering. A man in blue robes suddenly stormed passed her, knocking Adalia on her backside. A young man stood in front of her, looking very amused.

"You know, one good thing about the Blight is how it brings people together." the sandy haired man chuckled, helping Adalia back onto her feet.

"I know exactly what you mean." Adalia said, her eyes not leaving the man in front of her as she brushed herself off. He was handsome, and she couldn't help smiling along with his goofy grin.

"It's like a party. We could all stand in a circle and hold hands. That would give the Darkspawn something to think about. Wait... we haven't met, have we? I don't suppose you happen to be another mage?" he asked, his grin disappearing and a mild look of concern crossing his face.

"Would that make your day worse?" Adalia asked, crossing her arms. The man laughed.

"Hardly! I just like to know my chances of being turned into a toad at any given moment."

"Ribbit." Adalia said, raising an eyebrow. The colour in the man's face disappeared until Adalia laughed and introduced herself. 'So this is Alistair.' She thought as she shook his hand, his hand almost crushing hers. 'Men here have quite the handshakes.' She bemused.

"Let's walk," Alistair gestured back the way she had come from. "You know it just occurred to me that there have never been many women in the Grey Wardens. I wonder why that is."

"You want more women, do you?" Adalia raised an eyebrow, a sly grin on her face. Alistair turned several shades of red that Adalia thought were impossible.

"Would that be so terrible? Not that I'm some drooling lecher or anything." He stuttered, his face now flaming red. "Please stop looking at me like that." He looked away from her, his amber eyes looking up at the sky as he whistled softly. Adalia laughed, seeing Duncan in the distance.

He was standing near a blazing fire, two men with him. Duncan raised his hand to greet them, and the two men turned around to look.

"Oh, not you." Adalia groaned as she recognized the man from the quartermaster's earlier. He gave her the same leering look he gave her earlier, and the chills returned to her spine.

"Ah, I see you have met Daveth." Duncan said, a small smile creeping up his face under his bushy beard.

"Indeed." Adalia muttered under her breath, glaring. Alistair gave her a puzzled look.

"And this is Ser Jory, formerly from Redcliffe, now from Highever." Duncan introduced, and the man bowed to Adalia. "Now, for your mission."

* * *

"I'm not leaving him here to die." Adalia applied more pressure to the wound, Alistair pulling bandages out of his pack. The soldier on the ground was beginning to breathe steadily, Daveth and Jory pacing impatiently behind them.

"We need to keep moving. The darkspawn will kill us all if we don't." Daveth said, his eyes darting around nervously.

"I'm fine. I can make it back to camp. Thank you for your help." The soldier said, pulling himself to his feet.

"Wait. Where are the other men that were with you?" Adalia asked, turning around, her grey eyes filled with concern.

"I'm not sure. I was blindsided and knocked out." The soldier replied, before slowly moving back towards Ostagar. Alistair watched as Adalias eyes drifted to the mossy ground, and he could have sworn he saw a tear. 'Why does she care so much?' he wondered. Adalia bent down, wiping her hands on a damp patch of grass, thinking it would help get the soldiers blood off, instead of making a bigger mess like it did. She sighed faintly, pulling her gauntlets back on.

"Let's go." She said, looking over her shoulder at the three men watching her. They traveled along a path of trampled down grass, Jory and Daveth with their weapons drawn, watching the trees carefully. Adalia stopped to pluck a few flowers for the kennel master. It was quiet, she thought, eerily so.

"Do you hear anything?" she asked without turning.

"No?" Ser Jory replied after a few seconds of silence.

"No." Alistair repeated, a puzzled look crossing his face. "No birds, nothing at all." Another moment of silence fell across them, before they continued on.

They passed under a makeshift bridge, three men hanging by their necks from it, hands bound behind their backs.

"Look there." Alistair almost whispered, looking up at the three men. "Poor slobs. That seems so excessive." He had never heard of darkspawn binding and hanging men. No, this was something else.

"Have you ever heard of the Chasind Wilders?" Alistair asked Adalia, moving to her side. She looked up at him, and he could tell by the confusion on her face that she hadn't. "They live in this area. They're rather... primitive. With face paint and houses built up in the trees." Alistair said, looking up as though expecting to see them. "The Tevinter Imperium was constantly being attacked by them. That was why they built Ostagar; as a fortress to watch out for the hordes. At some point during the Divine Age, during the second Blight, they were defeated and forced back from Ostagar, and have been living in these Wilds since. They venture into our towns from time to time, but for the most part remain here. They're supposedly safe, but still. It gives me the creeps." Alistair shivered. He opened his mouth to say something else, but stopped quickly, putting his arm in front of Adalia, stopping her.

"Darkspawn." He drew his sword, pulling his shield in front of him. Adalia unsheathed her sword from across her back, her eyes darting back and forth. Four genlocks attacked, one aiming low, tackling Jory to the ground. Adalia plunged her sword through the genlocks skull before he has a chance to sink its fangs into Jory's leg. She plunged the blade into another genlocks chest, more appearing from over a hill. She could see an alpha hurlock running towards Alistair's turned back. She grabbed a dagger that the dying genlock had, throwing it toward the hurlock. Her aim was precise, and the blade pierced its eye. It stopped, its hands flying to its face, a guttural scream echoing through the woods. Alistair swung his sword, taking the hurlocks head off, black ichor coating his breast plate. Daveth killed the last genlock, Jory half bent over, panting. Alistair was gathering vials of blood.

"We just need the treaties." He said, standing, as the others joined his side. She nodded, and the headed off towards the ruins Duncan had directed them to.

* * *

Blood from Duncan's sword sprayed across the chest plate of Adalia's armour, and she watched in horror as Ser Jory sunk to the ground.

"Only one died in my joining..." Alistair commented, shaking his head. Duncan stepped over Daveth's lifeless body, holding out the silver joining chalice, the mixture of blood and lyrium coating the sides.

"Since the first, these words have been spoken at the ceremony: Join us, brothers and sisters. Join us in the shadows where we stand vigilant. Join us as we carry the duty that cannot be forsworn. And should you perish, know that your sacrifice will not be forgotten. And that one day we shall join you." Duncan recited as Adalia lifted the chalice to her lips.

A strange woman had found the four of them in the Korcari Wilds, Adalia crouched over the Grey Wardens' cache, looking for the treaties. 'A scavenger poking amidst a corpse whose bones have been long since cleaned?' the woman had called Adalia, and introduced herself as Morrigan.

Alistair and Duncan watched as Adalias body trashed on the cold stone floor of the old temple, her eyes rolled back in her head. Pain ripped through her body. She couldn't speak, but her mouth opened as a silent scream was let out.

"A Witch of the Wilds! Here to turn us to toads!" Daveth kept saying, clearly irritating the dark haired mage. She advised them her mother had the contents of the cache, and led them back to the white haired apostate. She was more than happy to hand over the treaties, and had her raven haired daughter lead them back to entrance of Ostagar. The Witches of the Wilds, the only people the Chasind Wilders truly feared, Alistair had said.

Adalia stopped convulsing, her black curls falling loose from the leather string holding her hair back. Pain still flooded her body. It was hard to breathe. Alistair stood over her, concern flooding his face.

"Congratulations." Duncan said to her, feeling her forehead. "She's burning up. Take her to the healers to rest for a bit. Meet me at the king's tent when she is able to get moving." Alistair grasped the new Warden's hand, pulling her up. He handed her a thin silver chain, a small pendant hanging from it.

"It's got some of the darkspawn blood in it. We all wear one." She took the chain, nodding appreciatively, and followed him to the healers.


	3. Chapter 3: Sorry About That

**Chapter Three**: Trouble Breathing

* * *

Alistair sat by the fire, watching the flames lap the air. Everyone else was asleep in their tents, and Alistair was on watch. It would be time to switch off soon, and then he could get some rest. He slid off the log he was sitting on, leaning his sore back against it. He stared up at the clear sky, the moon nearly full. He heard shuffling, and looked up to see Adalia's tent open, and her digging through her pack. She hadn't noticed him sitting there, watching her. Alistair could feel his cheeks warming up as he thought about how beautiful she looked. Her hair was pinned back as it usually was, a few loose black curls framing her face. He had never noticed how long her hair was, reaching to nearly the small of her back. She was wearing a pair of soft leather britches and a pale cotton tunic, hopping on one foot, trying to pull on a pair of leather boots. Alistair resisted the urge to laugh, fearing she would notice him watching. She leaned back into her tent, pulling out a tome she had been reading. He quickly turned away from her as she turned to the fire, staring down at his feet. He shouldn't be thinking about her this way. She was his sister in arms, and not a possible romantic opportunity.

She turned to face him, catching him quickly looking away. Adalia looked around the campsite. Leliana and Sten must both have been sleeping, and the lack of fire from Morrigan's camp across the way suggested she was, as well. Perses was lying near Alistair's feet, snoring gently. Adalia walked towards the fire, noticing a grimace on Alistair's face.

"What's wrong?" she asked, stopping a few feet away, putting down her tome. A light wind blew through the trees, the branches rustling and cracking.

"Eh, nothing, just sore. As much as I love sleeping on the cold, hard ground, it seems to be catching up to me. It's no big deal." He leaned back against the log again, his back cracking in protest.

"Off with the armour, then." Adalia said, moving closer. Alistair's jaw dropped, and he snapped it shut, realizing that he looked like an idiot. Perses snorted in his sleep, paws twitching as though the war hound was running.

"Wha-?" he started, but Adalia stood in front of him, arms crossed defiantly.

"Take it off." She said again, firmly. Alistair started to protest again, but the look on her face said enough. Her full lips were pursed together, the flames from the fire reflecting in her silver eyes. He sighed, pulling at the leather straps of his silver breastplate, pulling it free. He pulled off the gorget, tossing both to the side.

"Better?" he asked the woman standing to his right.

"Much." She stated, moving so she was standing behind him. She stepped over the log, straddling him from behind. He shifted nervously, and she could tell his face was red. She didn't understand why he got so flustered around her. She slid her hands up his back to his shoulders, digging with her thumbs. He gasped slightly, tensing up.

* * *

_Adalia opened her eyes, light flooding in through a small window._

_'Where am I?' she thought, sitting up. A blinding pain hit her, and she fell back against the pillow behind her._

_"Ah, your eyes finally open. Mother should be pleased. Now, now, not too fast. Wouldn't want to hurt yourself." A female voice said, almost mockingly. Adalia opened her eyes again, looking towards the voice. There stood the raven haired witch._

_"Morrigan? What am I doing here?"_

_"I have just bandaged your wounds. You are welcome, by the way. How does your memory fare? Do you remember Mother's rescue? She managed to save you, and your friend, though it was a close call." Morrigan turned from the fire, her cat-like eyes watching the Warden closely._

_Morrigan went on to explain that they were abandoned. Abandoned by Loghain Mac Tir, Cailan's right hand man. Everyone was massacred. Cailan and Duncan were dead. "Your friend... he is not taking it well." The witch said, looking towards the closed door._

_"Alistair?" Adalia asked, sitting up again, her head spinning. She was wearing nothing but her small clothes, but she was unconcerned about the witch seeing her half naked at this point._

_"The suspiciously dim-witted one, yes. He is outside by the fire. He is alright, but I suppose it would be unkind to say that he is being childish. Mother wishes to see you now that you've awoken." Adalia nodded, pulling her legs out of the bed and over the edge. Her armour was laid out on a chair, and Adalia dressed herself slowly, her muscles screaming in pain._

_Alistair stood on the end of a marsh, staring off. Smoke billowed in the distance, no doubt Ostagar burning. The smell filled his nose and burned his eyes. He heard the door of the hut open behind him, but he assumed it was the younger witch again and did not turn away from the scene before him. A crow squawked in the distance, the sound causing a chill to run down Alistair's spine. He thought back a few years, to a woman who used to visit the chantry, and remembered a conversation they had about crows. They were a sign of war and death, and seeing them on the eve of a battle was a bad omen. He didn't remember seeing any crows before the battle at Ostagar._

_"See, here is your fellow Grey Warden." He heard the elder witch say. Flemeth, the Chasind folk called her. He had heard stories about how the daughters of the elder with could kill a man with fear alone, but if they were anything like Morrigan he doubted they were frightening, just annoying. Alistair turned to find Adalia standing near the hut, pale and ill looking._

_"I thought you were dead for sure." Alistair said, moving to her side, his amber eyes filled with worry. He felt as though he was about to cry, and rubbed his eyes to try to cover it up._

_"I'm fine. I appreciate your concern." The petite woman replied, moving very slowly towards the blazing fire Flemeth had started. She winced in pain as she slowly lowered herself to the hard dirt ground in front of the flames, reaching out to warm her finger. After hours of sitting around the fire, sharing the story of what happened in the Tower of Ishal. As the Wardens set off to leave, Flemeth decided to send Morrigan with them, Alistair complaining long into the night._

* * *

Alistair's head dropped down, moaning as Adalia rubbed his neck, her fingers digging deeply into his aching muscles. The fire was starting to burn low, and the early spring air was chilly.

"Is that better?" Adalia asked, her voice close to his ear, causing Alistair to jump slightly.

"Very. Thank you." He rolled his shoulders, feeling as though the weight of the world had been lifted off them. He turned to face Adalia, and found himself very close to her face, their noses almost touching. He could feel his face turning red again, and he quickly scrambled to his feet.

"I'll, uh, run and grab you some more wood for the fire." Adalia watched as Alistair grabbed the axe, and scrambled into the trees, staring after him with confusion, her heart pounding in her chest.

* * *

_They headed north from the Korcari Wilds, up the Imperial Highway, and to the West Road, to Lothering. Lothering, pretty as a painting, Alistair had commented. It hadn't been. Refugees took camp wherever they could, begging for any silver or supplies that could be spared. They took up small tasks from the Chanter's Board to earn a few gold and help the desperate people as much as they could._

_Adalia had entered the local pub looking for ale and food to take back to their camp and instead had run into Loghain's men. Adalia came out of the tavern with a red haired Sister in tow, one that had insisted that the Maker told her to join the Warden's quest._

_"More crazy? I thought we were all full up." Alistair had muttered under his breath when the woman was done telling her story. Adalia had jabbed him in the ribs with her elbow, and politely declined the Sister's offer to join them._

_She had stopped them again on the way out of the town, asking again if she could join them. Adalia was tired and cranky, and had already acquired a very large Qunari._

_"And how do you think you can help me?" Adalia asked. She knew that she needed as much help as she could get, but somehow having a woman of the Chantry tagging along just did not seem like a good idea._

_"I helped you in the inn, remember?" the red haired girl said. The woman kept insisting she had visions, and was making Adalia uncomfortable._

_"Her plea seems wholehearted, and even though she seems a little...strange, she does have skill. I vote to let her come along," Alistair half whispered in Adalia's ear._

_"Alistair, she's one Archdemon short of a Blight." Adalia hissed back._

_"Yes, but she seems more "Ooh, pretty colours!" than "Muahaha! I am Princess Stabbity! Stab, kill kill!" Alistair stated, making stabbing motions with his hand. Leliana folded her arms across her chest at this._

_"Very well, if you insist." Adalia chuckled slightly as Alistair scratched his head awkwardly. "But if something happens to her, I'm blaming you."_

_The Sister joined them as the left Lothering, heading out to set up a camp._

* * *

Alistair returned, his arms overloaded with wood. Adalia jumped to her feet, trying to take some of the wood from him.

"No, no, I've got it." Alistair tried to move to the side, but Adalia stepped in front of him again.

"I'm not a fragile little butterfly, Alistair. I can carry some wood." She said, rolling her eyes. Alistair shot her a look over his shoulder as he moved passed her, dropping the roughly chopped logs next to the fire.

"Sorry." He muttered, looking down into the flames. Adalia could see a sadness in his eyes. She sat back down on the log, stretching her feet out towards the fire. She looked up at Alistair, his amber eyes watching her.

"Come, sit with me." Adalia patted the log next to her. He shifted nervously before moving over next to her. They sat there for several moments in an awkward silence before Adalia spoke up.

"Do you want to talk about Duncan?" she asked quietly, glancing up at him. She could see the pain twisting across his face.

"You don't have to do that. I know you didn't know him as long as I did." The young Warden replied. He looked as though he might cry. Adalia put her hand on Alistair's knee, trying to comfort him. The thought of it being inappropriate crossed her mind, but she didn't care. He was in pain, and it broke her heart.

"He was like a father to you. I understand." She whispered.

"I should have handled it better. Duncan warned me right from the beginning that this could happen. Any of us could die in battle. I shouldn't be so weak, not when so much is riding on us, not with the Blight and everything. I'm sorry." He dropped his head, and his shoulders began to shake. Adalia could see the tear drops on the dirt at his feet.

"There's no need to apologize." She whispered, putting an arm around his shoulder and pulling him into a close hug. They sat like this for a few minutes, and finally Alistair spoke.

"I'd like to have a proper funeral for him. Maybe once this is all done, if we're still alive. I don't think he had any family to speak of."

"He had you."

"I suppose he did. It probably sounds stupid, but part of me wishes I was with him in the battle. I feel like I abandoned him. Of course I'd be dead then, wouldn't I? It's not like that would make him any happier. I think he came from Highever, or so he said..." Adalia's thoughts drifted. Highever. Home. Thoughts of her family. "Maybe I'll go up there sometime, see about putting up something in his honour. I don't know. Have you... had someone close to you die? Not that I mean to pry, I'm just..." Alistair trailed off, pulling back to look at her. She was crying, big tears dripping down her cheeks. Now it was his turn to pull her close. She could hear his heart beating, and it made her feel... safe.

"I've lost enough to know what you're going through." She said against his chest.

"Thank you. Really, I mean it. It was good to talk about it, at least a little." Adalia nodded, not moving from Alistair's chest. She breathed in deeply. He smelled like sandalwood and cedar.

"Maybe I'll go to Highever with you, when you go."

"I'd like that, so would he, I think." Alistair leaned into his hands, staring into the leaping flames of the fire. Adalia suddenly realized her hand was still on Alistair's knee, and she pulled away sharply.

"I'm sorry." She said quietly, sliding off the log and onto the dirt ground near Perses, who still hadn't awoke from his deep sleep.

"Don't ever apologize." The young man said, sliding down beside her. "I think we both just needed to get it out." He rubbed her shoulder, squeezing gently, and he smiled softly at her.

"Yeah, you're right." She said, avoiding his eyes, poking the fire with a stick beside her. She thought about telling him that she was beginning to develop feelings for him. They had been traveling together for several weeks now, and Adalia couldn't help but fall for his charms. But she knew he that was just the way Alistair was, sweet, and goofy, and adorable, and they had a mission ahead of them. They sat there in silence for a long time, before Alistair finally stood.

"I'm going to turn in. I'll see you in the morning." Alistair said, looking down at the young Warden. Adalia just nodded, not looking up. She couldn't look at him right now. Alistair stood there, waiting, as though expecting her to say something. When she didn't, he turned, walking to his tent. He cast one last look over his shoulder, but she was still sitting, poking the fire.

She looked up and saw him duck into his tent, the flap closing behind him. She closed her eyes, sighing.

"I need to be strong. I cannot fall for him." She whispered, pulling her knees up against her chest. She looked over towards his tent again, wishing he would come back and sit with her again.

* * *

Alistair lay on his bedroll, staring up as though he could see the sky through the heavy canvas. He could still smell her hair, a soft spicy scent. He sighed, rolling over. He picked up something that was lying in the folds of fabric from a tunic. He rolled in back and forth between his fingers, bringing the petals close to his nose, inhaling deeply. He looked at the rose, and then looked towards the flap of his tent.

"Should I?" he asked himself. He propped himself up on his elbows, pushing the flap of his tent to the side slightly. Adalia was still sitting in the same spot, hugging her knees. Her head turned, and she glanced over toward his tent. He groaned, pulling himself up. "Playing this game again, are we?" he asked himself, pulling on his boots. He stepped out of the tent, heading back to the fire, heading back towards Adalia, the rose behind his back.


	4. Chapter 4: Trouble Breathing

**Chapter** **Four**: Trouble Breathing

The first of the Maker's children watched across the Veil

And grew jealous of the life

They could not feel, could not touch.

In blackest envy were the demons born.

_-Erudition 2:1_

* * *

They were traveling back to Redcliffe, the pouch of sacred ashes stored safely in Adalia's breastplate. Her arm was held carefully in front of her in a make shift sling, broken from a fight with a High Dragon. Wynne had not been able to fully heal her, the woman's energy drained. The elderly mage was leaning heavily on her staff, walking slowly and looking as though she was about to pass out. Redcliffe Castle became visible in the distance, and Adalia let out an audible sigh of relief. The trip to the Sacred Temple was far from fun, as though any of this had been. The tests they had been put through were easy enough, but coming face to face with her "father," she almost had not made it. He told her he was proud of her, proud of all that she had done, and it took everything in her to not break down and cry. Not in front of Wynne and Leliana, and most certainly not in front of Alistair. Her father had given her an amulet, and disappeared from her life again. They finished the trials, retrieved the ashes, and headed back to Redcliffe to save Arl Eamon, leaving Brother Genitivi to explore the ruined temple.

Alistair looked over his shoulder, watching Adalia stumble over the rocky terrain, Leliana further yet behind them, assisting Wynne. He stopped, waiting for Adalia to catch up to him.

"Perhaps we should rest for the night. It looks like everyone could use it." He said, putting his hand on the elbow of her good arm. She nodded, grateful.

* * *

They had their tents set up, and the moon was high in the sky. Adalia sat on the edge of a small stream, the warm water trickling over her feet. Wynne had gone to bed as soon as her tent was set up, and Leliana sat near the fire, singing softly to herself. Alistair had wondered off to scout the area, giving Adalia time to herself for the first time in weeks. She carefully lifted the side of her tunic, groaning at the dark bruising that covered her ribs. She pulled her back towards her, rummaging through it for a healing potion but her fingers found something else instead. She pulled out the rose Alistair had given her, spinning it lightly in her good hand. Sandal had been able to enchant the flower with lyrium, so it would never die. Well, not in her life time, at least. She lay the rose down on the grass, staring into the water as she thought about the journey tomorrow morning. They were spending a lot of time dealing with issues in Redcliffe, and they still had two treaties to fulfill.

On their first visit to Redcliffe, they had learned the Arls son, Connor, was possessed. A mage imprisoned in the dungeon told them the only options were to kill Connor, or travel into the fade, sacrificing someone. Adalia had seen the look on Alistair's face when Jowan said this. If she had chosen either option, he would have been devastated. They had to travel to the Circle of Magi for one of the treaties, so it had clearly been a better choice to travel there and seek further assistance. Adalia glanced over her shoulder, back to the camp. In the long run, it had been a good choice. Had they not gone to the Circle when they did, had Wynne not volunteered to join them, Adalia would be in worse condition then she was now. The young Warden pulled her feet from the water, looking down at the rose again. The night after saving Connor, Alistair had approached Adalia in the camp, taking her hands into his. He thanked her in a near whisper, leaning down and kissing her softly on the lips before disappearing into his tent for the night, leaving Adalia staring after him.

Adalia grabbed her pack, heading back to the camp, cursing herself for not putting her boots on first. Alistair was sitting near the fire, a book in his hand, Leliana gone.

"She went to bed." Alistair stated, noticing Adalia looking around the camp. She dropped her pack on the ground, carefully sitting down next to Alistair, who slid closer to her.

"How are you feeling?" he asked softly, looking at her arm, her eyes following his.

"Alright. Still sore, but it will heal. My ribs are a different story." she said with a lopsided smile. She leaned against his shoulder, and he kissed her forehead. Adalia heard someone clear their throat, and looked up to see Wynne standing nearby.

"I..uh... wood. I mean... I need to go get some." Alistair said, quickly scrambling to his feet, nearly causing Adalia to fall over. Alistair was gone before she even had time to recover, Wynne chuckling softly. She sat down across from Adalia, looking at the Grey Warden.

"You're quite taken with each other, aren't you?" the mage asked. Adalia cocked an eyebrow.

"I don't know. I don't really know what this is." she replied honestly.

"I wanted to ask you where you thought it was going. Alistair is a fine lad, but quite inexperienced when it comes to affairs of the heart. I would hate to see him get hurt." Wynne said. Adalia was taken back.

"Are you saying I might hurt Alistair?" Wynne thought for a moment before speaking again.

"Not intentionally, no, but there is great potential for tragedy here, for one or both of you. You are both Grey Wardens. You have responsibilities which supercede your personal desires."

"Our duty would always come first." Adalia stated matter of factly. She knew where Wynne was going with this.

"That may be true but he is still a Warden. Love is ultimately selfish. It demands that one be devoted to a single person, who may fully occupy one's mind and heart, to the exclusion of all else. A Grey Warden cannot afford to be selfish. You may be forced to make a choice between saving your love and saving everyone else, and then what would you do?" she asked. Adalia wished the woman would just go back to her tent. This is the last thing she wanted to think about right now.

"And what am I supposed to do, tell him to go away?" Adalia threw her arms into the air.

"You may have to, to save one or both of you unnecessary anguish later on." Wynne said. Adalia was getting angry.

"I understand." she said through gritted teeth. She could feel Wynne watching her, but Adalia avoided eye contact, hoping the woman would get the hint. And Adalia's hopes came true, as Wynne returned to her tent. Adalia sat alone, poking the dying fire, thinking about her words. Damn woman. Alistair dropped a pile of wood beside her, disturbing her thoughts and startling her.

"Sorry." he apologized, watching her as he tossed a few branches into the fire. "What's wrong?" he asked, moving to sit at her side.

"Nothing. Just tired." she lied, leaning on Alistair's shoulder. This isn't something she wanted to talk about, not now.

* * *

They had just left camp and were heading to Redcliffe when Alistair pulled her aside. The sun was barely over the horizon, but the day was already warm. Wynne and Leliana looked over their shoulders, but continued on their way as Adalia waved them on.

"Look, can we talk for a moment? I need to tell you something that I should have told you earlier."

"If it's about the addiction to cheese, or the strange obsession with your hair, then don't worry about it. I know." She said, smiling. Her smile faded when she saw the look on his face. She waited patiently for him to speak again.

"I told you before how Arl Eamon raised me and my mother was a serving girl at the castle, right? The reason he did that was because.. uh... well.. my father was King Meric. Which made Cailan my half brother, I suppose." He was fidgeting, staring down at his feet and scraping his boot in the dirt. Adalia realized her jaw had dropped, and she quickly snapped it shut.

"So... you're not just a bastard but a royal bastard?" she asked, trying to lighten the conversation and his nerves. Alistair chuckled, rubbing his face.

"Yes, I guess it does at that. I should use that line more often. I would have told you sooner, but it never really meant anything to me. I was inconvenient, a possible threat to Cailan's rule, and so they kept me secret. I've never talked about it to anyone. Everyone who knew either resented me for it or they coddled me... even Duncan kept me out of the fighting because of it. I didn't want you to know, as long as possible. I'm sorry." Adalia thought about her own family, and realized she had never spoke to Alistair about it. Now was not the time, though. Not after what he had just told her.

"I understand." She said nodding. Alistair sighed, pulling the small Warden into a hug.

"Good, I'm glad. At any rate that's it. That's what I had to tell you. I thought you should know about it."

"Should I be calling you Prince Alistair now?" she asked, poking him in the ribs.

"No! Makers breath, just hearing that gives me a heart attack. It's not true, anyhow. I'm the son of a commoner. It was always made clear that the throne is not in my future. And that's fine by me. No, if there's an heir to be found its Arl Eamon himself. He is not of royal blood but he is Cailan's uncle, and more importantly very popular with the people. So there you have it. Now can we move on and I'll just pretend you still think I'm some nobody who was too lucky to die with the rest of the Grey Wardens." He pulled away from her, smiling.

"Aren't you?" she asked, starting to follow after the two ladies, adjusting the strap of her pack over her good shoulder.

"See? I knew you could do it. It's easy, isn't it?" Alistair called after her.

"Yes, your Highness." She didn't need to look back over her shoulder to know he had a disgusted look on his face.

* * *

It took them little time to reach the castle, arriving in the mid morning. They were all exhausted and dirty, Adalia's ribs still throbbing. She had stood by Eamon's bedside while a mage administered the ashes, the Arl slowly rising from his deep sleep. As Teagan and Alistair filled Eamon in, Adalia stood in the shadows, slowly leaving the room, Alistair's eyes on her. He needed time to be alone with Eamon, and Wynne's words still filled Adalia's head. She was beginning to think the mage was right, and she should end things between her and Alistair, whatever they were.

Adalia wandered through the castle and found herself in a large round study. Books lined the shelves wrapping around the room, and papers were neatly piled on the desk. Adalia wandered around the room, looking at the extravagant paintings and weavings, picking up delicate ornaments resting on the dark shelves. Something in an open desk drawer caught her eye. She picked it up gently, a heavy medallion on a chain, her finger tracing the cracks running through the silver amulet, the symbol of Andraste etched into the surface and filled with gold. Adalia pocketed the chain, turning to leave the room. A servant met her down the hall, letting her know that the Arl was planning to have a dinner that eve, and her presence was required. Adalia sighed, and the petite elf continued to tell her that messengers were already sent out to alert any near by nobles and important folk.

"They wish dress to be a little more... elegant." the woman said, eyeing Adalia's dirty, ichor splattered armour, the only armour she had with her. She recalled a night at camp when Alistair and Leliana sat around the fire joking about how Adalia should have been born a boy.

"Can you draw me a bath?" Adalia asked of the elf, and the woman nodded and turned to leave. "And a dress?" Adalia called down the hallway after the elf. Adalia headed back to her room, but stopped in front of Alistair's door. She needed to speak to him, and though it may not be the most appropriate time, sooner was better than later. She knocked softly on the heavy wooden door, her head hanging into her chest in regret.

* * *

Alistair was sitting in his room, debating on whether he should wear his armour, or the tunic and soft leather britches that Teagan had left for him. His first instinct was to ask Adalia, but she had left Eamon's chambers so suddenly he knew something was wrong, and he hadn't been able to find her. A soft knock at the door drew his attention, and he pulled it open, Adalia standing before him. His smile quickly disappeared when he saw the look on her face. He stepped out of the way, letting her into the room.

"We need to end this." she said quietly, her back to him.

"Oh." he felt like he was going to vomit. "I... I see. Can I ask why?" Alistair asked, his voice breaking. He moved so he was standing in front of her.

"Where do you realistically see this going between us?" she asked, shuffling her feet. He didn't understand why she couldn't look at him.

"I don't know. We have the Blight to think about first, don't we? Everything else just seems so distant. But I.. I thought we might have a future together, or something." He said, gently lifting her chin up. She pulled away, and took a step back from him.

"You and I both know it's next to impossible for two Wardens to have children together. And with you being the heir of a king, bastard or no, I don't think there is a future for us." Alistair's head was spinning. She had been so calm this morning when he told her. What had made her change her mind so suddenly?

"But maybe the future doesn't have to involve children, or marriage or... anything." Alistair was grabbing at straws.

"It doesn't have to involve anything. Exactly." Adalia said, looking away from him again.

"If that is what you really want.. then so be it. I'd hoped... no, never mind, its done, since that is apparently what you want." He told her, when really all he wanted to tell her were those words he had never told another before. He wanted to tell her that he was in love with her. Now he felt his heart breaking in his chest. He moved to the door, throwing it open. "Go." his words were a lot more harsh then he intended, and he watched Adalia as she left the room, half expecting her to change her mind. She disappeared around the corner, Alistair slamming the door shut. He pushed his back to it, sinking down to the floor, pulling his knees to his chest, tears dripping off his chin. He couldn't remember the last time he had cried.

Alistair didn't know how long her had sat there for, his eyes dry and tired. A knock on the door above his head startled him, but Alistair didn't move immediately.

"What?" he asked the unknown person, still not leaving his place on the floor.

"Alistair, it's Teagan. We're waiting for you downstairs. Are you planning on gracing us with your presence?" Alistair groaned, leaning his head against the door. This is the last thing he wanted to do right now.

"I'll be down in a moment. I'm just... I'll be right there." That seemed to have satisfied Teagan, as Alistair heard the man's footsteps disappear down the hall. Alistair pulled himself to his feet, looking at his heavily damaged armour, and settled on the tunic, pulling it over his head and smoothing it across his chest. He was going to have to move on if he was going to continue to travel with her, dispite how painful it may be. He finished dressing, pulling on his boots when a servant knocked on the door, advising him again that people were waiting.

* * *

Adalia sat on the edge of her bed, staring at the pile of dresses that Isolde sent to her. Frilly Orlesian dresses. Adalia sneered at them in disgust, half tempted to show up in her dirt stained tunic. There was a knock on her door, and Leliana entered without waiting for a response.

"I could have been naked, you know." Adalia commented, still staring at the dresses. Leliana chuckled, moving to sort through the gowns.

"Oh, how lovely! Oh, and shoes to match! What a difficult choice!" Adalia watched as Leliana held a dress up to her chest, spinning around gracefully, the flowing skirts of her own dress dancing with her.

"Yes, well, I'm not exactly in the mood for fancy garments." Adalia said, loooking down at her hands clasped in her lap. Leliana suddenly stopped, moving to sit next to the young Warden,

"Does it have something to do with Wynne's conversation last night?" Adalia's eyes shot up to meet Leliana's, and the red haired woman nodded her head. "I overhead her. May I speak freely?" she asked, and Adalia nodded, unsure of what the bard was about to say. "My mother used to tell me that when two people are meant to be together, you will feel it," Leliana pointed to her heart, "and you will know that is the person that you share a soul with. Follow your heart, and don't listen to that meddling old woman." Adalia stared at Leliana for a moment, thinking. Two people, one soul.

"You can take your time thinking on that, my lovely lady, but for now it's time to get dressed!"

* * *

Alistair sat at the long wooden table next to Eamon, people chatting around him, wine and ale flowing readily. The chair across from him remained empty; Adalia had yet to arrive. Arl Eamon was talking about the plan for a Landsmeet when a young man came in and announced that the Grey Warden had arrived. Alistair almost choked on his drink when Adalia entered the room, Leliana at her side. She was wearing a long Orlesian style dress, the red silk skirts flowing like air around her ankles. A red and black bodice was laced tightly around her torso, a large ruby hung from a silver chain, resting just above her... Alistair had to turn away to prevent himself from staring, his heart stinging.

"Ah, when they told me a Grey Warden had saved me, this is most certainly not what I was expecting." The Arl said, bowing slightly. Alistair thought him flirting in front of his wife was a little out of character for the Arl, and the look on Isoldes face showed him that he was correct.

"Eamon, a pleasure to see you again, though sadly not on better circumstances." Adalia smiled, curtseying the older man.

"They know each other?" Alistair asked aloud, though no one was there to answer him.

"Yes, such a shame. Please, come sit, my ladies." Eamon led Adalia and Leliana to their seats, conviniently directly across from Alistair, who turned more red that Adalia's skirts and stared into his mug.

Alistair spent the eve talking to people he didn't know, and didn't care to, downing as much ale as he could get, progressively getting more intoxicated, and Adalia doing the best she could to ignore him. She was no better off, her cheeks getting pinker by the glass, and her flirtations with Teagan becoming more frequent, her hand on the top of his.

Alistair watched as she excused herself, and headed outside, her skirts flowing behind her. Alistair grabbed a full glass of ale and followed her out the grand doors. He found her sitting in the garden, staring up at the clear sky. He sat down next to her, resting in silence for a few moments before speaking.

"Why do you hate me all of a sudden? What did I do to upset you?" he asked, taking a swig of the beer. Adalia's long raven hair hung down across her chest, and he realized it was the first time he had seen her with her hair that way.

"What a womanly thing to ask." she stated, her gaze not moving.

"I... wha...how so?" Alistair sputtered.

"That's something a ridiculous, self conscious woman would say after a break up. 'What did I do?', 'Why don't you care about me anymore?', 'How can I change everything about my self to be exactly what you need me to be so you'll love me again?'" she said in a mocking voice. "I don't hate you. Why do you assume I do?" her eyes finally met his, and she looked like she was about to burst into tears.

"Just... everything. You don't talk to me, And I don't understand why we had to end...why we weren't working." he resisted the urge to reach out and brush a tear off her pale cheek.

"If we do nothing but try to protect each other then we are never going to succeed with our mission. Look at us. You nearly had yourself impaled jumping between one of those cult leaders and myself, and my ribs are broken from getting you out of the way of that sodding dragon. What's going to happen when this gets harder. I care, but I am not letting you get hurt, or worse."

"But we can make it work! We can be careful." Alistair tried to protest, putting his hands on either side of Adalia's waist. She stood up suddenly, angered that he wasn't listening to her, alcohol flooding her head.

"Enough! This is done. We're done! I have bigger things to worry about then your emotions!" she threw his hands away from her, and took off back through the garden to the castle, leaving Alistair heart broken and alone with his beer.

Adalia returned to Eamon, excusing herself for the eve, saying she was exhausted. She left for her room, feeling guilty about the way she had just spoken to Alistair. He eventually returned to the hall, and proceeded to drink the kitchen out of ale. He was about to start on the wine when Eamon finally sent him to his quarters, Isolde looking embarrassed. Alistair stumbled through the door of his room, muttering something about the stables. He didn't even close the door behind him as he moved to the bed, falling onto the down mattress face first. He sighed, rolling over as her heard the door to his room close, but he didn't look up.

"Everything alright?" Adalia asked, moving closer to him, and he groaned loudly.

"What the hell do you want?" he asked rudely, throwing an arm across this eyes. Adalia had expected that.

"I came to talk. About what I said outside." Alistair pulled himself up, tugging off his boots.

"I think you've said enough. I'm going to bed. You have a great night." he said sarcastically, still not looking directly at her. He laid back down on the bed and heard her move closer to him, standing right next to the bed. He could see that she was still wearing the red dress that flattered her chest and waist so. It was just a shame that it hid her curvy hips. He rubbed his eyes.

"Stop thinking about that." he thought to himself.

"Stop thinking about what?" Adalia asked, sitting down next to him. Apparently it hadn't been to himself.

"Nothing," he said, moving up so his back was against the wall at the head of the bed, tossing pillows out of the way.

"Look, I'm sorry. I feel terrible..." Adalia started, but Alistair cut her off.

"You damn well should." he spat, his eyes burning through her. A tear dripped from her eye, landing on her chest.

"Ali, I hate this. I hate all of this. Do you think I want to be fighting for my life every day? That I don't just want to be a normal twenty year old woman, picking out shoes and jewelry?" Adalia was crying heavily now, and Alistair had never seen her this upset. "My parents are dead, my brother missing. All my friends are dead, and you're the only person I have." She was hyperventilating, gasping for breath as the tears poured down on to her dress. Alistair slid forward, pulling Adalia into his lap, smoothing her hair and wiping her cheeks. He had no idea what she was talking about, but right now it didn't matter.

"I'm not going anywhere. I'm right here, and I always will be." He laid back against the bed, pulling her onto his chest, Adalia's breathing calming. They lay there in silence for a few minutes, before Alistair leaned down, kissing her forehead.

"I forgive you." he whispered, and felt Adalia chuckle against his chest.

"I didn't apologize for anything." the silver eyed Warden said, sitting up. Alistair was about to speak, but Adalia interrupted. "I have something for you." she said, reaching into her bodice.

"I like where this is going." Alistair said, smiling. His head was starting to throb as the effects of the alcohol wore off. He rubbed his eyes, and when he looked up Adalia was dangling a pendant in front of him. Alistair gently took it from here, staring down at it.

"My mother's necklace? Where did you find this?" he asked, looking up at the smiling girl.

"It was in the Arl's study. I.. uh... borrowed it." she said sheepishly. Alistair laughed, pulling her back into his lap.

"I can't even believe you remember me talking about this. I guess I'm just so used to people ignoring everything I say."

"I always listen to you, no matter how silly you may be." Adalia said. Alistair laid back against the pillows, pulling her into the crook of his arm. That night, Adalia fell asleep in his arms, a smile on the drunken princes' face.


	5. Chapter 5: Blue in the Face

**Chapter Five**: Blue in the Face

Here lies the abyss, the well of all souls.

From these emerald waters doth life begin anew.

Come to me, child, and I shall embrace you.

In my arms lies Eternity.

-_Andraste 14:11_

* * *

The smell in the Deep Roads was pungent, and Adalia couldn't place what it was. A blackness covered the walls, and it seemed to pulse. They had made camp, if you can call it that, Adalia sitting near a small burning fire sharpening her sword, the light cutting through the darkness of the caverns around her. Statues of long lost paragons loomed around the group, as though watching them.

"Ow!" Adalia heard Alistair shout, and glancing over her shoulder saw Wynne applying a poultice to a spear wound on his arm.

"What? Stop fussing with it! You'll make it worse." Wynne finished wrapping the wound, and Alistair stared down at it with discontent.

"It itches." the Warden whined, poking the wound. Adalia saw Wynne sigh in frustration, and toss her potions into her bag.

"It's healing, Alistair! Don't touch it!" Adalia chuckled to herself, examining her blade in the firelight. Perses was snoring nearby, the dwarf that has insisted on coming passed out right next to the dog, and snoring just as loudly.

"But it's distracting! Can I rub it through the bandage? That's not really scratching." Alistair tried to reason with the mage, but she wasn't having it.

"Alistair, if you open that wound up, I'm not going to heal it again. You can just treat it yourself. And when it festers, weeping bloody pus and burns like the flames of Andraste's pyre, don't come to me. All I'm going to say is "Didn't I tell you not to touch it?"" Alistair shot a look in Adalia's direction, as though begging her for help, but she pretended to not notice.

"It won't really fester, will it?"

"Try scratching it and see." Wynne moved to her tent, an unimpressed look on her face.

"Well... I guess it doesn't itch anymore." Alistair pouted, sitting next to Adalia. "What is that smell?" he asked. "It smells like rancid meat."

"Rotting corpses, I imagine." Adalia replied, trying not to breathe through her nose. It made her nearly dry heave. Both her and Alistair could sense the darkspawn swarming around them, but for now they were far enough away that the group was safe. Alistair had been digging through his pack for some dried meat, but stopped when she said that, a disgusted look on his handsome face.

"What's the plan, then? Where are we heading next?" Alistair asked, pushing a log deeper into the fire with the toe of his boot, sending sparks through the air. Oghren snorted, rolling over.

"The drunk seems to think we're close. Branka's journals suggest that we're in the Dead Trenches, which means we should be close to the Anvil, and hopefully to Branka." Adalia looked around, a dead creature laying near by. "What do you think roasted Deep Crawler tastes like?" Alistair gagged.

"I don't even want to know. Can't be any worse than the Bronto." he looked at the creature with disgust before looking back at Adalia. Her eyes were surrounded by dark circles, and her skin was paler than usual. "Why don't you go get some rest. I can keep watch." he said quietly, taking her small hand into his. She nodded gratefully, getting up to head to her bedroll.

"Just wake me up when you want to get some sleep." she said, laying down. Alistair was about to say something, but Adalia was already asleep. Alistair poked the fire again, picking up Branka's journal. Might as well keep himself awake somehow.

* * *

The stone giant standing in front of Adalia drew its massive fist back, ready to make contact with her face. Adalia crouched, waiting for the golem to make its move before she did. It may stand several heads taller than she, but it was drastically slower. It brought its fist down, and Adalia ducked to the left, the ground shaking as it made contact with the cavern floor. Adalia used the heavy pommel of her sword to bash the creature in the temple, attempting to stun it. The golem roared angrily, turning to the young Warden as she backed up, trying to figure out how to destroy it. In the distance Wynne finished turning another golem to dust, moving to help Adalia. Oghren was dominating over Branka, Alistair picking off corpses, their long dead bodies rising from the floor. Adalia wiped sweat from her brow, smearing her face with soot and dust in the process. The room was sweltering, flames leaping into the air around the stone cavern. The golem took another step towards Adalia, backing her against a towering stalagmite. It drew its fist back, and Adalia could do nothing but cover her face and close her eyes, hoping it ended quickly; praying under her breath to some invisible god, a parental figure to those that actually believed. She wasn't one of them, but now seemed like a good time to start. You could do that, right? Adalia waited, time crawling, and expected a body shattering blow. Instead a bright light flooded the room, and before Adalia could fully open her eyes to see what was happening the stone beast exploded into a fine powder, sending more dust flying into Adalia's face and up her nose. She coughed, opening her eyes to find everyone staring at her, a bemused look on Wynne's face.

"My apologies, Warden." the mage attempted to say sincerely, but Adalia could tell she was struggling to not burst out laughing.

"Appreciated." Adalia brushed at her face, spitting the ground golem out of her mouth.

"How lady like." Alistair smiled, putting his arm across her shoulders and leading her to where Caridin waited.

The ancient Paragon forged a crown for the new king, leaving it to the Wardens to decide who. Adalia destroyed the Anvil, and Caridin along with it, knowing his final words, atrast nal tunsha, may you always find your way in the dark, would stay with her.

As they were heading out of the cavern Adalia saw something move out of the corner of her eye. Before she had a chance to look, a massive stone fist stuck her, pain searing through her, and the whole world went black.

* * *

Alistair stood outside the doors of the healing chamber, the mage's inside doing the best they could to help Adalia. They had traveled back through the Dark Roads, Oghren leading with Adalia unconscious in Alistair's arms. She was barely breathing, his face swollen and her hair was mated with blood, and it had taken them almost a full day to make it back. That had been four days ago.

Alistair slid to the floor, his face in his hands. He couldn't hear anything from behind the stone doors, and the mages wouldn't let him anywhere near her. He looked around, watching the dwarves as they made their way through the marketplace. He looked down at his pack, and remembered that he had some trinkets they had picked up to sell. He pulled himself to his feet, and headed to the nearest vendor. He was browsing through their wares when a silver ring caught his eye. The fine silver band clasped a fair sized square ruby, and he thought back to the dinner in Redcliffe, and Adalia's attire. Alistair picked the ring up, turning it in his fingers.

* * *

_The rain pounded down on them heavily, the skies black and ominous. The vendor stalls in Denerim were all closed, the inn was full, and the group was desperate for supplies. They had long since run out of food, weapons and armour were broken, and potions were dwindling. Adalia had led them to a large house set far back in Denerim, the grass overgrown and unkempt, a sign that it had been long abandoned._

_"Wait here a moment." Adalia told the group before disappearing around the back of the building._

_"Yes, please, leave us standing in the rain. I suppose Alistair did need a bath." Morrigan seethed, and despite her comment, Alistair couldn't help but laugh at her. She looked like a drowned cat. Morrigan opened her mouth to make a snide comment when the door of the house clicked open, Adalia standing inside._

_"Get in, quick." she waved them in the door, closing it quickly. Morrigan and Leliana shook as much water off them as they could, Alistair fumbling through the darkness in attempt to find a torch._

_"Morrigan, a little help please?" Adalia heard him speak from somewhere in front of her, and Morrigan huffed before lighting up the room. She moved into the next room, lighting the first hearth she could locate. A dim light flooded through the room, the group looking around._

_"Find supplies. Anything you can. I'll check the larder for food." Adalia instructed, before disappearing into the darkness._

_Alistair pulled open drawers, finding a few daggers and a sword, and not much else. It was enough to last them until they could gather the gold to purchase new ones. He looked around the large room, the furniture covered with white cloths, a sign that the owners had cared. But why was it abandoned?_

_"Adalia?" he called out, moving to the door way of the room, "What is this place?" No response. He moved back into the room, examining the contents on a bookshelf, Morrigan lighting torches against a far wall._

_"Alistair, do you recognize the crest?" Leliana asked, curiously. Alistair turned to look at a woven tapestry, the blue and silver symbol still looking as new as the day it was made._

_"It's a symbol of the Couslands. Howe raided their home in Highever, and slaughtered the whole family. As far as I know it has never been addressed with him. This would have been their home whenever they were in the city." Alistair moved to the hearth, a large piece of cloth covering something hanging above it. "That would explain why this place was abandoned." he commented as he pulled on the sheet, the portrait underneath revealed. The family stared down at him, and Alistair gasped in shock at a pair of powerful silver eyes._

_"Oh, my..." he heard Leliana over his shoulder. "Is that...?"_

_"I told you to look for supplies. A painting isn't going to help us kill darkspawn, now is it?" Adalia's voice came from the door way, and she sounded less than impressed. She dropped a sackful of supplies onto a table, and a pouch of gold followed it._

_"Adalia, you... you're..?" Alistair started, but Adalia turned, heading back into the dark hallway._

_"Going to get more supplies. There should be some potions around here somewhere. I suggest you all get some rest before the morning." Alistair sighed heavily, moving to chase after her._

_"Here, take this. No use in you just walking into walls." Morrigan said, handing him a torch. Alistair followed after Adalia, all the rooms he searched empty. He climbed a set of stairs he located at the back of the house, and knew he was on the right track. He followed the sound of weeping to a dark bedroom in the corner of the hall, knocking softly on the door before entering. Adalia was sitting on the floor of the dark room, her back against the bed and her face in her hands. Alistair tossed the torch into the small hearth of the room, sitting down next to Adalia._

_"So, that's how Eamon knew you." he said finally, staring at the hearth. He say Adalia nod from the corner of his eye._

_"And this is what you were talking about, when you said your family was..." he trailed off as Adalia started sobbing harder. He pulled her into his chest, his lips pressed to the top of her head._

_"Why didn't you tell me?" he asked, though he was sure he knew the answer._

_"I never knew how to bring it up. "Oh, hey, by the way, I'm a Cousland." Yeah, that would have been smooth." Adalia said sarcastically, rubbing away the tears._

_"Would have gone just as well as "oh, hey, I'm the son of a king."" Alistair retorted, chuckling softly as Adalia slapped him on the thigh. He pulled her towards him, stroking her hair. "We'll get through this together."_

* * *

"Lovely, isn't it?" the young dwarf standing behind the table asked him, her dark eyes smiling at him. "Any woman would love that beauty." Alistair nodded, staring down at the band. He had been trying to find a way to repay Adalia for his mother's pendant.

"How much?" he asked, and the dwarf gave him a smile.

"Eighty nine gold sovereigns. But for you, Warden, I'll let it go for eighty two."

"Make it eighty, and you have a deal." he said. He knew his coin purse would be a near empty, but Adalia would love the ring. The woman nodded, and Alistair dropped the gold coins into her hand, thanking her.

He slowly made his was back to the healers, and saw Wynne speaking with a mage. The woman nodded and turned to find Alistair. She smiled, reaching to take his hand.

"She will be fine. She has a bad head wound, and they were worried about permanent damage, and her collar bone is broken. But she is awake and aware. She just needs to be careful for a little while." Wynne waved an arm towards the open door, and Alistair quickly made his way to Adalia's side, taking her hand.

"Ali?" she asked, squeezing gently. He pressed his lips to her hand, smiling in an attempt to reassure her. The side of her face was still swollen and heavily bruised, and her eye was full of blood.

"Hello, love. How are you feeling?" he stroked the hair off her forehead, and she nuzzled his hand.

"I've been worse. Not much worse, though." she laughed, blinking. Her eyes felt as though they were full of sand, and her head throbbed. She pulled herself up, sitting on the edge of the bed.

"Hey now. You need to rest. Don't make me get Wynne in here. You'll never hear the end of it." Alistair said, stopping her from getting up. She shot him a look that made him flinch, and she reluctantly laid back down on the bed.

"Fine, I'll rest. But as soon as I am able we are getting this nonsense with the dwarves over with, getting the treaty, and getting out of here. I never felt so claustrophobic in my life."

* * *

Alistair sat near the camp fire, watching Adalia. She was sound asleep on her bedroll, Perses curled next to her. They resolved the matter at Orzammar, crowning Harrowmont as the new king. Many were upset, infuriated, with their decision, but it was for the best. They left two days after Adalia awoke, stopping often to let her to rest, as much as she had protested. They would be heading to the Brecilian Forest as soon as they made it out of the mountains.

"Alistair? May I have a word?" Wynne asked, appearing at his side. Alistair groaned inwardly. He wasn't in the mood for her motherly lecturing. Make that grand motherly.

"Anything for my favouritest mage ever." Alistair gestured for her to sit.

"Well, now that you're in an intimate relationship, I think that you should learn where babies really come from." Alistairs jaw dropped. Was she being serious? He couldn't even respond, just stare. "I know the Chantry says that you dream about your children, and the good Fade spirits take them out of your dreams and bring them to you, but that isn't true." Wynne continued. "What actually happens is when a man and a woman love each other..."

"Whoa! Andraste's flaming sword, Wynne! I know where babies come from!" Alistair cut her off, holding his hands up defensively.

"Do you REALLY, Warden?" Oghren snickered from across the fire. Alistair just shot him a nasty look.

"Oh, look, you're all red and mottled! How cute." Wynne smoothed her robes across her lap, still looking completely innocent.

"You're wicked. Wicked, evil woman. That frail old lady act? I'm so not fooled. I'm on to you now."

"So, with the boss, aye?" Oghren asked, laughing again. Boy, was he drunk, Alistair thought.

"Pardon, Dwarf?" the senior Warden was getting frustrated.

"You and the boss. Rolling your oats. Polishing the footstones. Tapping the midnight still, if you will." Oghren began hiccuping, and Alistair rubbed his face.

"What are you going on about?" he asked, ignoring Wynne's cackling laughter.

"Forging the moaning statue, bucking the forbidden horse. Donning the velvet hat." Wynne laughed harder, Alistair getting red in the face.

"Are you making these up?" Alistair's voice was louder than he intended, and he saw Adalia toss over.

"Nope. Been saving' 'em. Best opportunity I've gotten." the dwarf laughed.

"You're drunk." Alistair stated, waving a hand in his direction.

"Nah. It's all this surface air. Explains why all you surface dwellers are so loopy all the time. And all this greenery is making me sick." He kept talking, but Alistair stopped listening. He was already walking away from the fire, Wynne still laughing. Maybe the air was making everyone loopy.

He sat down next to Adalia, Perses looking at him with bloodshot eyes. The swelling on Adalia's face had gone down, but the bruising was still prominent. He stroked her hair, tears building in his eyes. Maybe she had been right, after all.


	6. Chapter 6: Into the Night

**Chapter Six**: Into the Night

The first of the Maker's children watched across the Veil

And grew jealous of the life

They could not feel, could not touch.

In blackest envy were the demons born.

-_Erudition 2:1_

* * *

They sat together at their camp, alone. Only four of them had traveled to the Brecilian Forest, the rest of the group heading north to Denerim to pick up some much needed supplies with the plan to meet them at the Dalish camp. Adalia had trusted Sten to watch over the assassin they had picked up, insuring he didn't do anything to make her regret allowing him to come along.

Leliana was out scouting the area, and Morrigan had wandered down to a nearby river without a word to anyone. Adalia was watching Alistair as he cleaned his armour, an awkward silence between them. He had barely spoken to her since they had left the mountains, and Adalia kept her distance. She knew him well enough to know he wouldn't talk to her until he was ready. She looked back down at the potatoes she was working on, cutting off a few chunks and dropping them into the pot boiling in the fire. Leliana had caught a pair of rabbits, and the smell of the simmering meat was making her stomach grumble. If the others didn't get back soon they would need to go find something else to eat. She tossed a few herbs she had found into the pot, stirring. At least it would be better than Alistair's cooking. She could feel his eyes on her as she reached for her open bottle of wine, taking another swig, the bottle nearly half done. She stretched out, leaning against her pack, drinking and watching the fire. It felt like he had been staring at her for hours before she turned to him.

"Yes, Alistair?" she asked, noting him swallow heavily before speaking.

"I think was thinking..." he started in a near whisper. Adalia raised an eyebrow.

"Dangerous. And dare I asked what you were thinking about, or will your head explode?" Adalia joked. He didn't laugh or smile as she had expected. Instead, he looked hurt.

I'm constantly worrying about you. Worrying about if I'm doing a good enough job protecting you."

"Why do you need to protect me?" she asked, taking another swig from the bottle.

"Uh, because you're a teryns daughter." he said in an I-can't-believe-you-actually-just-asked-me-that tone.

"Maybe I should be protecting YOU more. You are the song of a KING." Adalia retorted. Why was he doing this now?

"Yes, but you're a woman." Alistair snapped, instantly regretting his comment. Adalia reddened in anger.

"A woman that could kick your ass, Your Highness." Alistair sighed.

"Stop, please. I don't want to argue," Adalia didn't immediately respond, choosing instead to finish the bottle off.

"Then why did you start this? Why do I need protecting. I was assigned the mission, just as you were." Adalia replied harshly. There was that look again. The kicked puppy look.

"I know." that was all he said, his hand subconsciously going to the small leather pouch at his waist. Adalia sighed. This isn't what she wanted.

"Join me in my tent." she blurted out. Alistair's head shot up, and he looked at her in shock.

"Wha-what?" he stammered.

"You heard me." she said as casually as possible, looking away. She felt like drinking another bottle of wine.

"I try to tell you how I feel about this, about us, and you invite me to sleep with you? Is that a usual response for you?" Alistair slapped a hand over his mouth, his eyes wide. Did he really just say that? Adalia sprang to her feet, fists balled at her side.

"Are you insinuating that I'm a.. a... harlot?" she shrieked, and Alistair recoiled. "No, Alistair, my thoughts were more along the lines of 'hey, I might die tomorrow without ever getting to know what it's like to be with the man I love'. But it's nice to know the feelings aren't reciprocated!" and with that she stormed off in the direction of the river, passing Leliana and Morrigan as they entered the campsite. "The stew is in the fire. Don't choke on it." she snapped as she stormed past them. The women watched as she disappeared through the trees, then turned to Alistair, his mouth hanging open.

"Well..now. That's, uh, a new shade of red." Leliana commented, sitting down, Morrigan joining her.

"In the words of the great Dwarven drunk, you sodding nughumper." she stated, scooping some stew into a bowl.

"I'll go get her." Alistair said, standing, but Leliana grabbed onto his leg, stopping him.

"No you will not! From the looks of it, you've done enough damage for now. She needs to be alone. I'll take her some food, and she will join us when she is ready." Leliana said, moving for the trees. Her words bit deeps, Morrigans snickering not helping the situation, and Alistair sat back down defeated.

* * *

She was drunk. She knew she was drunk. The earth was spinning, and everything was blurry. But more so than anything she was mad. No, mad wasn't the correct word for the scenario. She was infuriated. Infuriated at what, she wasn't sure, but she knew she was!

Adalia dropped down near the bank of the river, laying back on a small incline, staring at the sky. What was she mad about? Oh right. She was a whore.

"Bastard." Adalia muttered, crossing her arms defiantly across her chest.

Leliana suddenly appeared next to her, sitting down next to her on the grass, a bowl of stew in her hand.

"Eat." the bard said, pushing the bowl towards her. Adalia shook her head like a stubborn child, instantly regretting it. The sudden movement made the sky spin faster, and for a moment Adalia thought she was going to lose all the wine she had drank.

"It will help. Have some water too. You won't be so ill in the morning."

"You sound like my mother talking to Fergus." Adalia grumbled, sitting up slowly.

"Keep your feet flat on the ground while you're laying down as well. It will help with the spins." Adalia turned to the woman, annoyance spread across her face.

"Look, Leliana, I know you're trying to help, but right now I just want to brood and be pissed off about his royal assness back there. So unless you've got more wine, sod off." Adalia lowered herselfback to the ground with a little too much force, her head bouncing on the hard soil. "Ow." Leliana shook her head to herself, standing.

"You are two of the strangest people I've ever met. His royal assness? What does that even mean?" Leliana mumbled to herself as she headed back up to the camp, leaving Adalia on the ground, bowl of stew perched on her chest.

* * *

The sun was coming up, and Alistair was busy packing up his bedroll. Adalia hadn't returned to the campsite, all her belongings still sitting where she had left them. Leliana and Morrigan had all their things packed up, and were sitting around the smoldering coals, ready to depart. Alistair began to worry, and was about to go looking for her by the river when she came stumbling out of the trees, her hair disheveled, leaves stuck to her.

"Are you alright?" he asked, moving towards her. She brushed him off, picking up her pack.

"Hurry up. We leave now."

* * *

The journey through the forest to the Dalish camp was done in complete silence between Adalia and Alistair. Traveling to the ruins, meeting the Lady of the Forest, fighting the werewolves, defending the Dalish. Silence. They had returned to the camp, Alistair sitting off with Oghren and Sten, the group having arrived a few hours before with the supplies. And ale. Lots of ale. That was the good thing about having the dwarf around. Zevran had convinced Adalia to get a tattoo, the Dalish Keeper sitting next to her, tapping a sharpened wooden stick into the skin of her calf, rubbing in an ash and dye mixture. Alistair imagined that it was quite painful, but Adalia's face showed no sign of discomfort. He wanted to go and talk to her, but the last time he tried was while they were in the temple, and the look she gave him could have bore holes through his Dragon plate armour. The Keeper finished rubbing the dark paste into her bloody leg before wrapping it with a clean bandage. He watched her laugh with the Elves, her face brightening. She turned, and caught him staring at her. He raised a hand in a pathetic wave, but she just turned away, walking with the Keeper.

Alistair sat cross legged on the hard dirt, a handful of Elven children trying to teach him a card game that seemed more complicated than necessary. That, or they were tricking the slightly intoxicated human. Adalia was still sitting with the Keeper, talking in hushed tones.

"Hey, shem, you gonna pay attention to the game, or keep staring at the pretty lady?" a gap toothed child asked, grinning.

"I'm going to keep staring unless you let me win!" Alistair said, poking the fire haired elf. The rest of their party were sitting around a nearby fire, Oghren steadily drinking himself into a coma, Sten brooding, staring into the flames, the bard and the assassin chatting away about Antivian leathers and shoes. He glanced around briefly, unsure where the mages got to.

The three treaties were collected, and they were heading to Redcliff in the morning. For now they had a chance to relax and enjoy the company of the elves they had just supported. Adalia had muttered under her breath that werewolves would be more productive against the Archdemon, and Alistair let out an audible sigh of relief when Adalia had done what he had considered the "right" thing.

"Whatcha doin'?" the female Wardens voice came from behind him as she peered over his shoulder at the cards in his hand, causing him to jump.

"Trying to beat a bunch of children." he muttered, shifting his cards around. Adalia leaned further over him, taking the cards. Her chest pushed against his shoulder, soft through the thin fabric of the dress she wore, her breath hot against his neck. Alistair felt the heat rising in his face, and he shifted away from her. She picked a card, and laid the hand down on the wooden stump they were using as a table, a smug grin on her face.

"I win." the elven children looked at the cards laid out, then back at the woman.

"The pretty shem knows how to play!" the red haired elf yelled, before running away giggling, the other children following.

"Where did you learn that?" Alistair asked, watching Adalia pick up the cards, shuffling.

"A serving girl in Highever was from the Alienage. She showed me how to play years ago." She dealt the cards out as she took a seat across from Alistair, her now bandaged leg propped out to the side. Alistair longed to reach out and pull her into his lap, and smother her face in kisses. He picked up his cards, moving them around as though he knew what he was doing.

"You still mad about the other night?" he asked quietly, laying a few of the cards onto the log. Adalia regarded him for a moment, before scratching the back of her head.

"I, uh, don't really remember what happened, actually. I know I'm mad, though." Alistair covered his face with his hand, shaking his head. "Oh, something about me being a harlot. Yeah, that I remember. Not too much else though." Adalia lay a pair of cards onto the table, drawing some more from the dwindling pile.

"I did not call you any such thing!" Alistair exclaimed loudly, drawing curious glances from the crowd near the fire. Adalia chuckled, the best thing he had heard in a while.

"I know. I'm just being a twat. Now I remember why my mother always sent me away from the parties when I had too much wine." Adalia chuckled again.

"Angry drunk." it was Alistair's turn to chuckle, but Adalia went quiet, a sudden saddened lookin her eyes. "Do you want to head to Highever? We can delay our trip to Redcliff." He said, laying down two cards.

"Isn't it a little out of the way from here?" Adalia asked, laying matching cards on top of Alistairs.

"Yes and no. We can head north west, cut through the forest to Dragons Peak. Hafter river separates them from the Coastlands, but we can cut across and make our way up. It would only take us four or five days to reach Highever, barring all surprises." Adalia nodded, appearing deep in thought.

"I would like that." she finally said, laying down her remaining cards. Alistair stared at the pile with a look of disdain spreading across his face. "Look. I wanted to talk about it, though. I'm sorry. About everything. I didn't mean to get angry at you. I know you were just trying to express your feelings, and I screwed up." Alistair just looked at her.

"Deal again." he demanded. "I will win at this." Adalia smiled slightly.

"Ali, even if you cheated you wouldn't win against me." she said, but didn't move to hand out the cards. "Why aren't you acknowledging what I'm saying. I'm trying to apologize." Alistair stood up, holding out his hand.

"Let's go for a walk." he said, and Adalia gingerly took his hand and he led her into the woods. Once they were far enough out for the sounds of the camp to have disappeared, he spun to face her. "You said love." Adalia raised an eyebrow, stepping back slightly.

"What?"

"The other night. You said you wanted to know what it was like to be with the man you love. You love me?" he asked softly, pulling her closer to him. Adalia felt weak in the knees as Alistair slipped his arm around her waist.

"I..." Adalia couldn't form a sentence. All she could do is stare at his inviting lips.

" 'Dalia?" he murmured, pushing her back against a large elm, his body tight against her. She slid an arm up his chest, her fingers stroking his cheek. He leaned down to her, pushing his lips to hers. Adalia's head swarmed, and she felt Alistairs tongue push past her lips. She moaned, welcoming him, pulling on his hair. Alistair pulled back, his lips just grazing hers, causing Adalia to let out a disapproving groan.

"You haven't answered my question. Do you love me? Or was that just you trying to hurt me?" Adalia's silver eyes met his, and he looked as though he might cry. Adalia kissed his jaw, his stubble scratching her face.

"I love you, Alistair. I would never hurt you." she whispered, pulling back to look at him. He smiled, and her heart fluttered in her chest. Alistair kissed her softly, and Adalia pulled at his tunic, wanting him closer, a heat rising in her. He took a step back, stroking her hair, before he turned and walked back to camp, leaving her staring after him, a common occurrence.

* * *

Adalia and the bastard prince left the forest the next morning, heading towards Highever. Everyone else made their way to Redcliff, leaving the Wardens to their own personal task. Adalia had returned to the camp the night before to find Alistair sitting around the fire with Oghren again, laughing at some crude joke. He gave Adalia the sweetest smile when he noticed her, and she wanted to dump a bucket of cold water on him. His clever way of punishment. He patted the grassy patch next to him, gesturing for her to sit with him. She slid down to the ground, adjusting the bandage on her leg. Alistair passed her a bottle of ale, a smug look still on his face as he rubbed her lower back slyly. He leaned down to whisper in her ear, shivers running down her spine.

"I love you."


	7. Chapter 7: Love Love, Kiss Kiss

**Chapter** **Seven**: Love Love, Kiss Kiss

* * *

Alistair and Adalia entered Highever in the early afternoon on the seventh day, the sun warm above them. Fall was setting in, and Adalia smiled as she stood on the hillside admiring the colours of the trees in the town, Perses relieving himself nearby. The rest of the party had headed to Denerim to scout and follow the gossip circulating. Adalia slid down the steep hill heading to the village, Alistair on her heels. Large dark mounds in the field below drew her attention, and as she drew near she realized they were graves. Many remained unmarked, but those with stones marking their identities showed they were staff from her home and unlucky villagers.

"Are you alright?" Alistair asked quietly behind her.

"So many dead." she whispered, tears swelling in her eyes. Alistair put a hand on her shoulder, gently turning her away from the sight. They headed towards the far north side of the village, the smell of the ocean lingering in the air. Alistair inhaled deeply, watching people bustle around, preparing for the oncoming winter. Though the weather remained mild, wind from the Amaranthine ocean was bone chilling, and layers of furs weren't enough to keep it out. Barrels of freshly harvested produce lined the fields, ready for canning and drying; the sweet figs, bright red apples, mounds of dark beets and bright green cabbages, and the earthly mushrooms.

"I'd almost forgotten what it was like here." Adalia said, walking towards the Cousland estate.

"It's beautiful." Alistair replied, passing through the gates into the courtyard. A young man, not much older than Alistair, stood there speaking to a group of soldiers.

"Fergus!" Adalia shrieked, running to the man and nearly knocking him clean off his feet as she jumped on him, Perses right behind her. Alistair watched with a smile as sister and brother were reunited.

* * *

They sat in front of a large fire in the Teryns study, small glasses of Orlesian brandy resting on the fine oak tables. Fergus had told them about his return to Ostagar, the slaughter over with, and the devastation when he returned to what had been his home. His family was dead, and his sister was missing.

"Never did I imagine that my sister was one of the Grey Wardens I had been hearing about." Fergus said, sipping the amber liquid. From Fergus' knowledge, though Howe was now claiming to be the Teryn of Highever, he had long abandoned the estate, chosing to stay in Denerim instead.

"We're going to need your support when we call the Landsmeet." Adalia advised her older brother, and he looked at her with surprise.

"And who are you planning on putting on the throne? With Cailan dead, and no heir, Anora is likely to remain where she is." Adalia looked at Alistair and saw him sink lower in his chair.

"Cailans brother. Marics son." she replied confidently, and Fergus nearly choked on his drink.

"The rumoured bastard prince. What if that is all that he is, dear sister? A rumour." Adalia looked at Alistair again. The sandy haired man was holding his face in his hand.

"He isn't. Are you, Alistair?" she smirked at the man.

"No-" he mumbled into his hand, Fergus looking at him with great interest.

"Well then. You know you have my support. Both of you." he said, and Adalia thought he sounded proud. He reminded her a lot of their father. He had spent the afternoon showing them the repairs being completed as much had been damaged by the fire, as well as the vast stone tomb he had built in the gardens for their parents and his lost wife and child, the Cousland family crest boldly marking the heavy granite doors.

"Better than on the floor of the larder." Adalia had said bitterly as she moved away from the crypt, anger filling her. Fergus had promised revenge against Howe, and she intended to see it through. A young man appeared, advising Fergus that he was needed. He excused himself from the study, but not before advising them to help themselves to anything they needed, and letting them know dinner would be prepared in an hour or so. Adalia and Alistair left Perses sleeping in front of the fire as she led the way upstairs, opening the door to her room. It was almost as though she hadn't left. Her soft leather armour still hung on its stand in the corner, a matching pair of daggers resting on the wall next to it. She trailed her finger across her armoire, opening the doors. Fergus had insisted on sending their armour away for much needed repairs and cleaning, and Adalia felt her tunic and britches were not appropriate for dinner.

"Please tell me you're going to wear a dress." Alistair whispered in her ear, sending chills down her spine. He wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her close and breathing in her smell. She smiled, reaching behind her to play with his hair, arching her back seductively.

"And what if I was?" she asked, giggling softly as he kissed behind her ear.

"I might just have to tear it off of you. Just not one of those Orlesian things please." he said softly, pulling away, teasing. Adalia turned, pretending to be upset, and knocked Alistair backwards onto her bed.

The days they had spent alone traveling to Highever had been the most relaxing days Adalia had in nearly a year. The days had been long, not stopping until late to make camp, and leaving with the sunrise, but she hadn't felt rushed as she had since departing Ostagar. She knew they needed to stop Loghain and deal with Howe, but she needed some time beforehand. The nights were getting cool, and she and Alistair had shared a tent, to keep warm he had insisted. They spent their nights talking, cuddled close together, stealing kisses and whispering 'I love yous.' Adalia hadn't brought up them sleeping together again, knowing now that Alistair would make a move when ready, or so she hoped.

Adalia jumped on top of Alistair, straddling his hips and leaning in for a kiss when she heard someone clearing their throat behind her. Adalia spun, finding a maid staring at the floor, beet red.

"M'Lady, your brother sent me to let you know the baths are ready. I also brought a change of clothing for your, uh, guest." she stammered, and Adalia saw choke back a laugh.

"Thank you. If you could show Alistair to his room, I will get ready for dinner." she said as ladylike as possible as she climbed off the prince.

"Yes, m'lady. Right this way Ser." the small woman gestured out the door, waiting for Alistair. He groaned, pulling himself off the bed, leaning into Adalias ear.

"We will be continuing this later, Lady Cousland." his hand drifted a little low down her back as he departed, Adalia blushing and heading to the baths.

* * *

The three sat around the dining table, laughing as they shared stories. Fergus had dressed Alistair in some of his best, and Adalia could easily see the prince in him. Sitting there with Fergus, he was like a whole new man. He still had a big smile and goofy sense of humour, but there was an aura of regality about him. Adalia leaned on her hands, watching him and smiling. He was telling Fergus about a night when Oghren had gotten so drunk he invited Perses into his bedroll for the night. Fergus was laughing so hard there were tears streaming down his face. Adalia was happy to see the two men getting along. They had been sitting in the large room talking for hours before Adalia finally realized the time of night.

"What are your plans?" Fergus asked, noticing Adalia looking at the moon outside. She looked back down at him, shrugging slightly.

"We should depart the day after tomorrow to Redcliffe to meet with Arl Eamon. From there, it looks like a Landsmeet will be called. We'll just have to see how things go from there." Fergus nodded, looking slightly concerned.

"It will take you at least a fortnight to reach Redcliffe on foot from here, especially with winter setting in. Could I convince you to take two horses, make your journey faster?" he asked, but Adalia shook her head.

"I would love to, but I would rather move on foot. Easier for us to get off the trails, if we need to. Although you're the real teryn here, neither Alistair or I are safe yet." Fergus nodded again, understanding. He slid his chair back from the table, stretching, Alistair and Adalia following in suit.

"Adalia, I'd like a word with you before you retire for the eve. Alistair, if you don't mind?" Alistair bowed slightly to the man, before clasping his arm.

"Of course, friend. I appreciate everything. Have a good eve." Fergus smiled, shaking the mans had. Alistair turned to Adalia. "Goodnight, my Lady. I'll see you in the morn." Adalia smiled as he left the room, impressed with the young man. Fergus turned to her, gesturing for her to sit.

"So, you two are quite smitten, no?" he asked, laughing again at her blush. "Oh, 'Dalia. I like him, a lot. He's a good match for you."

"You say that because of the whole son of a king thing, don't you?" she asked seriously, now wondering what Fergus' intentions were.

"Not a chance, sister. If he was a vagrant I would still like him." Fergus left, standing to retrieve something from above the hearth across the room. He brought back a cloth wrapped bundle, setting it down in front of her. "I kept this, and think you deserve it. After everything you've been through, everything you've done for the country, I can't think of anyone else who should have it." Adalia unwrapped the package, staring down at her fathers sword. She picked it up, tears swelling her eyes.

"Thank you Fergus. I will try to do father proud." she said, gently putting the sword back down. Fergus clapped her on the back, wrapping the sword back up.

"I don't doubt that for one moment. I'll have it sharpened in the morning, and it's all yours. Now, go get some rest. I'll see you in the morn." and with that the elder Cousland disappeared, leaving Adalia alone.

* * *

She slowly made her way up the stairs towards her room, her hand sliding along the cold railing, thoughts running through her mind. This place didn't feel like home anymore. It felt empty, and lonely. She loved her brother, but she couldn't come back here, not to stay. She paused outside Alistair's bedroom door, listening, but all was quiet. She sighed, a pain flashing through her heart. Her home was with Alistair, but for how much longer she didn't know. With the Landsmeet only weeks away, who knew if he would be taken away from her. He was the first man she had truly loved. She had never been with a man before, not like that. She had experienced a few chaste kisses from the young men seeking her hand in marriage, but never anything like this.

She neared her room, the door in her sight when someone grabbed at her from the shadows, pulling her in. Before she could let out a sound, his lips were on hers, and she recognized Alistairs scent. She breathed in deeply, returning the kiss. He pulled back slightly, moving his lips to her jaw, her throat, her neck. She groaned, leaning against the cold stone wall.

"What took you so damn long?" her murmured against her skin, pulling her closer to him. The long blue skirts rustled noisily, and Adalia tried her best to hold them still.

"Fergus. He... oh, that doesn't matter right now. C'mon." She pulled away from him, grabbing his callused hand and tugging him towards her bedroom. She took another quick glance down the long hall, and, satisfied that no one was there, pulled Alistair into her fire-lit room and quickly closed the door, bolting it. Fergus smirked from the end of the hall, shaking his head at his sisters actions. His thoughts drifted to his dead wife, and he rubbed his eyes before tears could appear.

Alistair backed up to wherever Adalia was leading him, his kisses never ending. She moved towards the armoire, pulling off her jewelry and dropping it on the top haphazardly. Alistair fiddled with the strings lacing the bodice together, attempting to get them untied. Frustrated, he reached for a dagger on the wall, and with a quick slice the strings disappeared.

"Hey now. I like this dress." Adalia chuckled, tossing the ruined bodice on the floor, happy to be free of the tight boning.

"Mmmhmm, and I like it too. But I like it better on the floor. Besides, I can buy you more string. Or a new dress. We'll have to see how this night goes." Alistair whispered as she tugged his tunic off. Adalia almost lost her breath at the sight of his muscular chest and well toned abs. Even in the firelight he looked tanned, and Adalia wondered how he managed that considering he was always in armour. She opened her lips to say something, but Alistair stopped her, her silk dress falling to the floor. She kicked it off to the side, rid of the itchy crinoline. Alistair swung her around, dropping her down on the bed, her muscles welcoming the first real bed that she had slept in in months. He crawled over top of her, kissing down her shoulders, her stomach, his warm hands running down her thighs. He stopped at her calf, admiring the Elven tattoo. He hadn't gotten a good look at it, and he marveled at its beauty.

"What is it?" he asked, looking up at her as her fingers softly traced the still rough lines. Adalia looked down, smiling slightly.

"Keeper Lanaya chose it. She said it meant "Hero of All," and that, although Zathrian died, I still did her clan a great honour, and this was reserved for those that are most highly honoured. She told me I deserved it more than anyone." Adalia frowned for a split second, but Alistair caught it.

"What's wrong my love?" he asked, sliding up so he was laying next to her.

"I told her that others helped me to rid them of the werewolves, but she said the reason I deserved it hadn't happened yet. She told me to be patient, and everything will fall into place." Alistair smiled, turning Adalia so she was facing him.

"I think she was right. Now, if we can get back onto the not wearing clothing topic..." he trailed off, looking down at her. Adalia blushed, and tried to cover herself up, but Alistair stopped her.

"Adalia. I want you." he whispered, pulling her body close to him. She didn't reply, instead moved to unfasten his britches. Alistair kicked off his boots, tugging the soft leather pants off after them. He turned back to Adalia, finding her busy unfastening her under garments, tossing them to the floor, her bare back facing him. He softly touched her skin, tracing the fine, white scars that ran across her flesh. He reached up, pulling the pins out of her long hair so it flowed down her back. She looked over her shoulder at him, smiling softly.

"Are you sure this is what you want?" she asked in almost a whisper, a chill racking though her. Alistair pulled her towards him, sliding under the warm covers. He kissed her again, softly.

"More that anything." he replied, following her guidance as she drew him into her.

* * *

Alistair carefully let go of Adalia's warm body, sliding to the edge of the bed.

"And just where do you think you're going?" she mumbled into the pillow, turning her head slightly. He snatched up what he was looking for, sliding back into bed behind her.

"I'm not going anywhere, ever." he whispered, pulling her close. She rolled over, a soft hand cupping his cheek.

"Good, because I am most certainly not done with you." she chuckled, drawing him in closer. She propped her head on his shoulder, gently nibbling at his earlobe.

"I have something I want to ask you." he said, and Adalia pulled back, her eyes meeting his, waiting. "What are your plans, when this is all done? Will you come back here?" Adalia noticed a sadness in his eyes.

"No." she shook her head, moving closer to him. "This isn't my home anymore. My home is with the Wardens, now." she looked up at him, his warm eyes looking down at her. "My home is with you." she said under her breath, almost hoping he didn't hear, hoping she didn't scare him off. A smile crept to his face, and he softly kissed her forehead, laying back. They sat there for a few moments in the comfortable silence before he whispered,

"Marry me." Adalia didn't move, not sure if she had heard him correctly. Alistair noticed her tension, and pulled back. "Adalia?" he whispered, now afraid. She turned to look at him.

"Did you just.. did you just ask me to-"

"When this is all done, when we're done fighting, I want you to be my wife." he said, taking the delicate ring out of the soft pouch. Adalia looked down at it, her jaw dropping. She took it from him, staring, tears forming in her eyes.

"It's beautiful." she whispered. How long had he been carrying this around for, she wondered. Alistair ducked his head, searching for her eyes.

"Well?" he asked, waiting. Adalia threw her arms around his neck, kissing him softly.

"I would be honoured." she whispered, her smile lighting up the room. Alistair pulled back, taking the ring from her and sliding it on her finger. He pulled her into his chest, holding her tight.

"Ali?" Adalia mumbled against him, barely able to breathe. He chuckled, pulling back slightly. Adalia looked up at him, a sudden look of concern in her face. "Ali, the Landsmeet... With you becoming king, is this even...?" Alistair put a finger up against her lips, quieting her.

"We're going to make it work. No matter what happens. But until then we don't need to worry about it." Before Adalia had the chance to say anything, Alistair pulled her back to him, his lips meeting hers, and the heat rising between them.

The Wardens left early in the morning of the third day, heading to Radcliffe, their packs full of supplies Fergus insisted they take, and her father's sword strapped to Adalia's back. Her brother had been ecstatic about the news of their engagement, but Adalia saw the lingering sadness in his eyes. She promised him that she would see him soon, and Fergus promised to stand by them at the Landsmeet. He stood at the gate watching them leave until they all but disappeared.


	8. Chapter 8: You're Dead

**Chapter Eight**: You're Dead

Those who oppose thee  
Shall know the wrath of heaven.  
Field and forest shall burn,  
The seas shall rise and devour them,  
The wind shall tear their nations  
From the face of the earth,  
Lightning shall rain down from the sky,  
They shall cry out to their false gods,  
And find silence.

_-Andraste 7:19_

* * *

They arrived a Redcliffe a fortnight and a half after they departed Highever, entering the castle dirty and tired. Adalia found Arl Eamon in his study reading a book. He looked up at her arrival, smiling.

"Ah, my dear. Good to see you again. How was your visit?" he asked, gesturing for her to sit across from him.

"It was pleasant enough. We have collected all the treaties that were required. The Dwarves, the Elves, and the Mages will be battling with us in the end. Fergus will also be sending troops." she advised him, laying the documents out on his desk. He nodded, looking down at them.

"Excellent. I shall make the arrangements for the Landsmeet. Let us head to Denerim in the morning then, and may the Maker watch over us." the Arl said, handing the documents back to the Warden and standing. Adalia rested her face in her hand, sighing. It was at least another two weeks to Denerim, and they had just travelled from that very direction with little rest. Adalia smirked at that inwardly. VERY little rest. Eamon would have them ride on horseback, but the majority of his men would be on foot, and she knew the trip would be slow moving. Adalia looked up, and noticed Eamon staring at the ring on her finger. She moved her hands to her lap, covering the gemmed band nervously.

"Sounds good. I will retire for the night, and get some rest." she stood, bowing to the Arl, who nodded.

"Let us know if you need anything. We will leave at dawn." and with that, Adalia excused herself, heading to the room the Arl had prepared for her. She closed the door, bolting it behind her, and rubbed her throbbing head. She needed a hot bath and sleep.

"Everything alright?" a voice asked, causing her to jump.

"Alistair. Bless Andraste, you scared me." she breathed, moving into the room, shedding her breast plate. She rolled her shoulder, grateful for the weight to be lifted, even for a little while. Alistair moved behind her, rubbing her shoulders.

"I'm sorry, my love. I just came to see if you needed anything." he kissed behind her ear, pulling her into a hug. Alistair felt her shake her head against his shoulder, her gauntlets falling to the floor. Adalia turned to face him, a serious look on her face.

"Are you ready for this? The Landsmeet, I mean." Alistair shrugged, giving her an unconfident lopsided grin.

"As ready as I will ever be. I have a favour to ask of you though. When we get to Denerim, I was wondering if we could visit someone..." He trailed off, watching Adalia intently.

"Ooh, got an ex girlfriend you want to look up? Well, alright, but I'll be watching her!" she joked, falling backwards onto the down filled bed. Alistair shifted uncomfortably, wringing his hands.

"Ha ha. Funny. No, it's actually, well, my sister." Adalia's silver eyes widened in surprise.

"You have a sister? Wow, how many secret children did Maric have?" she asked, sliding over to make room for Alistair to sit.

"Technically, she's my half sister. Remember how I told you my mother was a serving girl at the castle? She had a daughter before I was born. I found out about her just before Ostagar. I'd like to meet her, before it's too late, and I would like you to come with me." he took one of her small hands into hers, and Adalia smiled at him.

"Of course, Alistair. I told you, I'm by your side no matter what." Alistair grinned, pulling her into a hug again, breathing in her hair.

"Good, I'm happy to hear that. Can you do my a favour, first?" he asked, and Adalia looked up, a glare already in her eyes. "Can you take a bath? You smell terrible." She groaned, pushing him away from her and standing.

"Yes, your Highness. You may want to do the same. Perses is smelling better than you are." and with that she disappeared into a side room to bathe, leaving Alistair sitting on her bed, smelling himself.

* * *

"Denerim is the heart and soul of Ferelden. It was the city of King Calenhad, the birthplace of Andraste. As stubborn as a mabari, and as good to have on your side. If we defeat Loghain here the rest of the nations stands with us." Arl Eamon led the way through the gates of Denerim, the Grey Wardens at his side. It took over a month of travelling with such a large party to reach the gates, and Adalia was weak with exhaustion. "By calling the Landsmeet I've struck the first blow. The advantage at the moment is ours. He will have little choice but to show himself and oppose us directly, and he will strike back at us. The only question is how soon." Adalia looked around the marketplace, noticing the many eyes on the group. They were hardly inconspicuous, and other than the guards they were some of the few people in full armour.

"I want to take a look around a bit." Adalia said to Alistair, who nodded.

"Let us go to my estate, first. You can drop off your packs and have something to eat." Adalia hesitated before agreeing, wanting to get out into the market and listen for some gossip. They headed into the courtyard of the estate, the Arl's guards pulling the heavy wooden doors open. Adalia froze on the spot when she saw the figures standing in the large, open hallway. Loghain had his back to her, but she recognized his armour. His lieutenant, Ser Cauthrien, was at his right, her hand going to her sword hilt at the sound of their entry, her dark eyes watching them. But it wasn't them that filled Adalia with ice. Howe stood there, watching her, a smile creeping into his brown eyes.

"Loghain. This is.. an honour, that the regent would find time to great me personally." Arl Eamon said, moving towards the men. Adalia felt Alistairs hand on her shoulder, and she turned to face him, ignoring what Loghain was saying.

"Stay calm." Alistair whispered to her, squeezing her arm. "I'm right beside you." she nodded, turning back to the men, whose voices were now rising.

"Ferelden has a strong leader: its queen. And I lead her armies!" Loghain said loudly, stomping his foot. How like a child, Adalia thought, stepping forward.

"Considering Ostagar, perhaps we need a better general." she tried to say bravely, but her voice shook. He spun to face her, his blue eyes wild.

"And who is this, Eamon? Some new stray you picked up on the road? And here I thought it was only royal bastards you played the nursemaid to." Howe snickered behind him, Loghain looking so very proud of himself.

"Well, you're admitting to the royal part. That's a start." Alistair mumbled from behind her, and Adalia took another step forward, her head held high.

"I am Adalia Cousland of Highever, and friend to Alistair, your rightful king." her voice boomed through the hall, her confidence growing. She heard Alistair mutter "friend?" from behind her, but she ignored him again, standing her ground.

"You should curb your tongue. This is my city, and no safe place to speak treason, for anyone." Loghain appeared as though he was about to say more, but Adalia interrupted him.

"I demand blood rights. Howe murdered my family." Howe stepped closer to her, a sneer on his face.

"You have no rights! Your family surrendered them when I revealed them to be traitors to the king." Adalia nearly lunged for the mans throat, but Alistair was quick, wrapping an arm around her waist, and pulling her back.

"You think you can slander my family to my face, you bastard?" she hissed at him, struggling against Alistair.

"No, that would be him." Howe smiled, looking at the prince. Ser Cauthrien stepped forward, ready to draw her weapon on Adalia, but Loghain stopped her, turning his attention back to Arl Eamon.

"There is talk that your illness left you feeble, Eamon. Some worry that you may no longer be fit to advise Ferelden. I had hoped to talk you down from this rash course. Our people are frightened: our king is dead, and our land is under siege."

"You're the one who divided Ferelden. What efforts can there be when you outlaw the Grey Wardens." Adalia had regained her composure the best she could, Alistair still not letting her out of an arms reach.

"I am not talking to you, woman. Cailan depended on the Grey Wardens prowess against the Darkspawn, and look how well that ended. Let us speak of reality, rather than tall tales. Stories will not save us."

"Neither will you." the raven haired girl spat, Cauthrien moving nearer, and Alistair once again pulling her back.

"I was not ill, Loghain. You, more than anyone, are aware of that. I cannot forgive what you have done. Perhaps the Maker can, but I cannot. Our people deserve a king of the Theirin bloodline. Alistair will be the one to lead us to victory in the blight." Eamon looked proudly over at the young man, who reddened.

"Oh, is that all I have to do? No pressure..." He said sarcastically, looking down at Adalia. She was flushed, an uneasy look crossing her face. Alistair was about to ask her if she was alright when she turned and ran from the room, stopping outside the doors in the courtyard. Her stomach churned, and she heaved into a nearby bush, silently thankful that she had not eaten much. She spat, leaning against the wall for a few moments, taking a few deep breaths before heading back into the hall. Loghain blew past her, his "friends" following, a final threat leaving his mouth as he disappeared out the door.

"The emperor of Orlais also thought I could not bring him down. Watch yourselves!" and with that, he was gone. Adalia sat down on the steps, her head in her hands, her eyes fixed on the royal blue carpet. Alistair moved next to her.

"Are you okay?" he asked quietly, stroking her hair. She nodded, not looking at him.

"I think it was all just too much at once. I'll be fine." she felt Eamons eyes on her, and she looked up, addressing him. "Have you know Loghain a long time?" the man nodded, clasping his hands behind his back as he began to pace.

"My sister married Maric while he was still in exile. At that time he and Loghain were inseparable. The wild prince who'd never seen the inside of a castle, and the farmers son. When Loghain joined Marics rebels, he was just a raw-boned boy, but he got on one knee to swear that he would see Ferelden free or die trying."

"And now he kills Marics son and steals the throne." Adalia said into her hands, but Eamon understood her clearly.

"And conspires with a blood mage to poison me. It is a bitter dose to taste. The chantry speaks truly about the corruption of power if a man like Loghain could go and do this. I would never have believed he would do anything but what was best for Ferelden. We need eyes and ears in the city. Loghain has been here for months; the roots of all his schemes must begin here. The sooner we find them, the better we can turn them to our advantage. Go have a look around and see what you can turn up. Find some nobles and test the waters. See how many will support us." Adalia nodded, standing.

"I had asked Lelianna and Zevran to head here after we went to the Dalish. We find them, and we find some information, I hope." Eamon nodded, and excused them. The Wardens headed out into the courtyard together, Adalia feeling nauseas again. She stopped, and leaned against the guard post, closing her eyes.

"Okay, we're going to the tavern, first. You need to eat something." Alistair said, pulling her by the elbow and ignoring her protests. He pushed her into the dimly lit bar, Adalia taking a seat in the corner. Alistair ordered food, looking around the tavern with Adalia as the wench set down two large mugs of deep amber ale in front of them. Adalia nodded towards two men sitting near them, speaking in hushed tones.

"Bann Sighard from Dragons Peak. The bald one is Bann Ceorlic, from the south." she said into her mug, taking a deep sip. The feeling in her stomach slowly eased, and Adalia sighed in relief when the waitress set down two large bowls of stew, a loaf of fresh bread on the side. "Arl Wulff is sitting near the door by himself, and I saw Bann Alfstanna and Arl Bryland sitting in the corner beside the bar. Bryland was a good friend of my fathers." She began shovelling the hot meal into her mouth, straining to hear what the two men were talking about.

"Something about them being suspicious about the mortality rate of the advisors to the throne, like Urien." Alistair said quietly, noticing Adalia's curiosity.

"And Bryce Cousland." she said, nodding, shovelling more of the hearty stew in her mouth. Sighard was talking about how worried he was to put Maric's bastard on the throne.

"I'd much rather Anora just stayed on the throne, and it get passed to the Mac-Tir line, then to some by-blow." Ceorlic replied, taking a swig of his beer. Adalia turned to them, a look of disgust on her face.

"Bann Sighard. How good to see you again." she said with a sickly sweet tone, the man looking up at her, surprised.

"Aren't you Bryce and Elenor Couslands youngest? Makers breath, I thought...well, it's good to see you're alright, child." Adalia smiled, gesturing towards Alistair.

"This is my companion, Alistair Theirin." Ceorlic choked on his beer at this statement, his face instantly turning beet red. Alistair nodded a hello to the men, sipping his beer.

"Well, gentlemen, enjoy your eve. We'll be seeing you at the Landsmeet." she said, turning her back on the two men. The two finished eating, Alistair watching to make sure there wasn't a bite left in her bowl before the left the dim pub, the whispers getting louder. Adalia looked around the swarming market, before glancing up at Alistair.

"Shall we go find your sister, then?"

* * *

The door slammed behind them, the sound of the older woman cussing still audible.

"How lady-like." Adalia muttered, kicking a stone at her feet. Alistair hung his head low, moving away from the house. The meeting with his sister, if you could call her that, was less than he had expected, and his spirits were low.

"Let's just go. I don't want to be anywhere near here right now." he began to move away, and Adalia stopped him, her hand on his elbow. He pulled away sharply, looking down at her.

"I'm sorry for what I said in there. I guess calling her a gold digger wasn't really the smartest thing."

"Oh, because the part where you told her she wouldn't have so many mouths to feed if she kept her legs closed out of wedlock was so much better. As thought you're one to speak." Alistair said sarcastically, but the words stung. Adalia already knew the Grey Wardens couldn't have children, and from the way Alistair tensed she knew he had just realized what he had just said. She shrugged casually, looking at the shops as she wandered past them slowly. She was no tramp, and knew Alistair was just angry.

"I'm going to the Wonders of Thedas. I'll meet up with you at the Estate later on." Adalia said softly, and before Alistair could protest she had disappeared into the shop. Alistair stopped outside, debating following her in, but turned and made his way to Wade's armour shop instead. His pack was full of scales, and he might as well put them to use.

* * *

Adalia wandered around the Wonders of Thedas, picking up small trinkets, and turning them in her fingers. She could feel the eyes of the tranquil on her back, and she shifted uncomfortably. A shelf full of stuffed dolls caught her eyes, and a smile crossed her face. She picked a larger one up, making her way to the mage at the counter. She smiled as she handed him a few silvers, taking the paper wrapped package from him. She tucked it under her arm, leaving the dark store and heading back to Arl Eamon's estate. Adalia dropped the package off in her room before heading to the Arls study to speak with him. When she entered, Alistair was already there, and a panicked looking woman stood next to Eamon.

"Warden, I trust you've made yourself comfortable. It's likely to be the last of your rest of a while." the Arl nodded to her, then turned to the woman at his side. "This is Erlina..."

"I am the queens handmaiden. She asked me to seek you out for your help." the woman said, her accent heavy. Adalia sat on the corner of the desk, eyeing the woman up.

"Speak fast, or you'll be returned to Loghain in pieces." she said, before letting the woman tell her story.

* * *

Adalia slid a pair of daggers into her breastplate, her back turned to her door. A fluttering sensation in her chest let her know Alistair was behind her.

"If you came to lecture me, love, I don't wish to hear it." she said without turning around, knowing he was already upset with her. She had already told Lelianna, Morrigan, and Zevran to prepare themselves to depart immediately. Alistair had protested her going without him, but at this point he was too important to risk losing. He had given up easier than Adalia had thought he would.

"I'm not here to do anything but thank you, Adalia." he said, and Adalia froze. She couldn't think of the last time he had used her name. She turned to him, sitting on the edge of her bed, waiting for him to continue. He sat next to her, taking her hands in his. "I wanted to thank you for earlier. That whole thing with Goldanna... You were right. She was just a money grubbing whore." Adalias jaw dropped, but Alistair continued speaking. "I just... She was the only real family I have. I don't know what I was expecting, but she most definitely wasn't it. I guess it just made me realize how truly alone I really am." His grip on her hand weakened, and Adalia's heart hurt.

"Alistair," she slid closer to him, putting her head on his shoulder. "You aren't alone. You have me, and you will always have me. You just have to realize that sometimes people only care about themselves." Alistair looked at her, a mixture of surprise and love on his face. He kissed her forehead, pulling away from her. He reached up, pulling the silver chain from his neck, and looping it over her head, his mothers amulet clicking against her armour.

"I want you to wear this. Think of it as a good luck charm. I need you to come back here safely." Adalia was about to protest, but Alistair held a finger to her lips, quieting her. "I'll see you when you get back." And with that he was gone.

* * *

The group moved through Howe's quarters, down the stairs to the dungeon. Adalia had located papers marked with the Grey Warden seal in his room, and though she was unable to read them, she knew they were important. As she opened the door she caught the attention of a lone guard. As he began to advance towards them a pair of arms shot out through the bars of the cell, snapping the guards neck. Adalia cautiously drew her sword as the faceless prisoner drew the body towards him, fetching the keys. The man exited the cell completely naked, Adalia averting her eyes and blushing red when she heard Lelianna whistle under her breath.

"I thank you for creating such distraction stranger. I have been waiting days for an opportunity." the man said as he stripped the armour from the guard. "You never hear music in the sound of a key turning in a lock until you've been imprisoned."

"Impressive moves old man." Morrigan said as she watched the man dress.

"Perhaps introductions are in order, just so you never call me that again. I am Riordan, senior Grey Warden of Jader." the man bowed to the group, and Adalia stepped forward to shake his hand.

"Warden Adalia Cousland of Highever." Riordans eyes lit up, and he took her hand.

"Duncan's last recruit. Yes, you match his description. I am terribly sorry about everything that happened, my lady." Adalia nodded. The pair spoke briefly before Adalia gave him the documents she had found, and directed him out of Howe's estate and to Arl Eamons. Riordan had told her he had seen Howe head deeper into the dungeons so they pressed onwards, deeper into the dank tombs. They entered what could only be the torture chamber, long spikes protruding from the walls with bits of putrid flesh clinging to them. Adalia nearly gagged at the sight of three naked bodies hanging from the rafters, the woman among them heavily mutilated, the blood caked on her inner thighs suggesting terrible acts. She turned a corner and a group of men attacked them, their cheap weapons clinging dully. The group had no issuing disposing of them, their bodies adding to the piles in the rank room. Adalia cleaned her blade off, wondering deeper into the dungeon, a faint voice calling out.

"Don't leave me here! Get me out of here! That's an order!" Adalia neared and found a young man strapped to the rack, the rope slicing his wrists and ankles. "Was this supposed to be a lesson? Did my father think it funny to leave me for so long before sending you?"

"Who are you?" the Warden asked as she cut through the ropes binding his legs to the table.

"Then my father didn't send you? I am Oswyn, son of Bann Sighard of the Dragons Peak bannorn. If you are not one of our soldiers pray tell me who should I be thanking for my rescue." the young man said as he rubbed his wrists. Adalia slid her dagger back into her breastplate, bowing slightly

"I am Adalia, here for the rightful king, Alistair Theirin."

"Marics bastard? Then I need not question why you're here, for your friends claim to the throne is the greatest threat to Loghains regime. You have my heartfelt gratitude and, I assume, the gratitude of the entire Dragons Peak bannorn. If my father sent no one after me, I can only assume that he does not yet know the true colours of the snakes he has allied with. But if you talk to him, I'm certain he would offer you any reward you might ask."

"Will he side against Loghain at the Landsmeet?" Oswyn seemed taken back by the question.

"Then there is a Landsmeet after all? Howe said the Arl of Redcliffe was dead and the Landsmeet called off. I swear, if there be any forum to speak out against Loghain then my father will be there. Now please I must try to get to him. I..I cannot see the last of this place too soon." Adalia nodded, sending the man on his way.

"M'lady, the end of the dungeon is down the stairs. If Howe is down here, that that is where we shall find him." Zevran said quietly in her ear, pointing to a door ahead. Adalia nodded, and made her way down the steep stairs.

"Well look here, Bryce Couslands little spitfire all grown up, and still playing the man. I thought Loghain made it clear that your pathetic family is gone and forgotten." Howe was at the bottom of the stairs, and clearly expected her. His sword was drawn, and pointed at her heart.

"After this, I'll kill your wife and sons, too." Adalia hissed, her sword free from its sheath, her daggers still safely hidden.

"Isn't that precious. Is this where I lament the monster that I helped create? You're still so very new to this. Shall I show you how it's done?" Howe's blade flashed downwards as Morrigan released a spell, the freezing winds and ice pummelling all those near. Adalia ignored the pain on her flesh as she launched herself at Howe, matching his blows. "I made your mother kiss my boots before I ran her through. It was the last thing your father saw." Howe laughed as he dodged Adalia's sword.

"Fuck you." she spat, her blade meeting an open space in his armour on his shoulder. Blood spurted out, and Howe hissed, taking a few steps backwards. Adalia moved to advance on him while he was stunned, when she noticed something move over Howe's shoulder. She looked up in time to see an archer fire off a shot, the arrow hitting her directly in the centre of her chest. She fell onto her back, the arrow protruding from her breast. Howe's shadow fell over her as he moved closer, raising his blade to strike. Adalia looked down, no pain searing through her.

"The amulet..." She whispered, pulling the arrow from her breast plate. The head had hit Alistairs amulet dead on, stopping it in its tracks. She was afraid to see the damage to the already fragile talisman. She swung her foot around tripping Howe back to the ground as she scrambled to her feet. Lelianna had quickly dispatched the archer, and Howe was the only one left standing, back on his feet and lunging for Adalia. She pulled the daggers from her armour, blocking his blow. She could see her father's sword lying on the stone floor, too far away for her to reach. Adalia stepped to the side, matching Howe blow for blow. She kept watching for an opening, and she saw Zevran moving in.

"No!" she snapped at the assassin. "He's mine." Zevran nodded in understanding, stepping out of her path. Howe lashed out while she was distracted, his blade slicing down the left side of her face. Adalia recoiled in shock and pain, her vision blurred as her eye filled with blood. She tried her best to blink it away, striking towards Howe again. His armour was heavy, and he was tiring quickly. Adalia saw an opportunity, ducking low and swinging her foot out. Howe fell heavily, a gasp of air passing his lips. Adalia was on top of him in less than a heartbeat, straddling his chest as she knocked his sword away from him. She brought her fist down, the heavy metal from her gauntlets breaking his nose almost instantly. Blood began to gush from his face as she continued to bring her fist down, again and again. Her own blood was dripping onto him every time she moved.

Leliana was behind her, trying to pull her off, but Adalia shoved her away, her breath heavy.

"Maker spit on you, you pathetic excuse of a Cousland. I deserved more!" Howe gasped, blood spraying from his lips.

"You deserve nothing, you rotten piece of shit. My family deserved more than what you gave them. At least now they've gotten something." she spat, her fist smashing into his face again. She was covered in blood, and Howe was far from recognisable. Lelianna was on her again, pulling her off of the near dead Arl.

"That's enough. He can do no more harm. You've gone too far." She said, causing Adalia to spin, her face full of anger.

"Too far? After what he did? He deserves no forgiveness, not even from your Maker. I haven't gone far enough, Lelianna." the Warden turned to pick up her father's sword, making her way back to Howe. His chest was barely rising, his nose broken and one eye swollen completely over, but she saw him watching her from the other one. She leaned down over him, whispering in his ear.

"This is for my family. You can die thinking about what I'm going to do to yours." and with that she drew the blade across the mans throat, nearly severing his head. Blood gurgled, and the smell of iron just hit her, her stomach turning.

"Let's go, Adalia. There's nothing left her for you." Zevran said from behind her, leading her to the door. Lelianna wouldn't look at her, her eyes cast the ground. Morrigan lead as the group headed back to Anora's cell, Adalia leaving a bloody trail in her wake.

"My thanks." Anora said, exiting the cell. Adalia heard a little gasp of shock from the soon to be former queen, but it was muffled by the massive helmet she wore.

"Lets go." Adalia ordered, ignoring the guard uniform.

"Thank you. I'll trust you to lead us safely out. If Howe's people find me I may be killed, or my people will insist on escorting me back to the palace, where my father may also have me killed." Anora was beginning to get on the Grey Wardens last nerve, and Adalia was about to snap at her when a familiar voice rang out.

"Warden, in the name of the regent I am placing you under arrest for the murder of Rendon Howe and his men at arms. Surrender and you may be shown mercy." There stood Ser Cauthrien, surrounded by nearly two dozen well armed soldiers. Zevran was quick to draw his blade, and magic was already dancing over Morrigan's fingers. Adalia took a step forward, raising a hand.

"I will stand down. You do not know the whole story." she said, her voice carrying across the large hall.

"We have killed so many other guards, why do a few more suddenly matter?" Morrigan asked quietly in her ear.

"Morrigan," Adalia hissed, "not helping."

"Are you sure you want to do this?" Erlina asked, her hands wringing her skirts.

"Killing them just reinforces Loghain's lies about me." she whispered back, turning to Ser Cauthrien.

"I'm surprised this ended peacefully. Bring the Warden. Loghain doesn't care about the rest." two strong arms seized Adalia from behind, pulling her back. She felt a strong, sharp pain in the back of her skull, and everything around her went black.


	9. Chapter 9: Another Innocent Girl

**Chapter Nine**: Another Innocent Girl

* * *

Alistair paced back and forth impatiently, a thousand thoughts racing through his mind. Where was Adalia? What was taking them so long? Night had long fallen outside, the moon high in the sky. The sound of the door opening startled him, and he saw Eamon rise to his feet. He breathed a heavy sigh of relief when he saw Anora. They had done it.

"Anora. I'm glad to see you're safe." Eamon said, taking the woman's hand in his.

"Eamon, we have a problem." Anora said, pulling away from the elder man.

"Oh, I was beginning to think this was going to be easy." Alistair said sarcastically, Anora just noticing that the young man was in the room. Alistair looked around as his friends entered the room, but someone was missing. "Wait, where's Adalia?" he asked, noticing the blood covering Zevrans hands and tunic.

"What happened?" Eamon asked them, his eyes filed with concern.

"The Warden was captured." Zevran said softly to Alistair, his voice filled with pain. Anger crossed Alistairs face, and he spun to Anora.

"How?" he demanded, taking a step towards her.

"It does not matter. Ser Cauthrien will take her to Fort Drakon. Getting in will be no small feat." Anora said as she took a seat in an over stuff chair.

"I swear, if anything happens to her-" Alistair began, raising a fist.

"She will be fine." Zevran stepped in, grabbing the larger mans hand. "She is strong. We just need to get to her, fast. She's been through a lot." Alistair looked at him, not understanding, but his attention was drawn back to Anora.

"You seem to care an awful lot about this woman." She commented, a smirk on her pale face. Alistairs temper was rising.

"She's a Warden. A sister in arms. And a friend. Not that you would know about any of those things." he snapped, and Anora drew back.

"Enough, Alistair. We must make haste." Zevran interrupted again, his eyes flashing with urgency. Alistair nodded, looking at the Arl as he spoke up suddenly.

"It's best that only a pair of you go. Alistair, who are you sending?"

"I'm going." Alistair said bluntly, looking at the crowd now forming in the room. Wynne was standing near the door, worry spread across his face, Ohgren just looking drunk. "Zevran is coming with me. He's the best to get us in and out." he said, nodding to the elf at his side. The blonde man nodded in return, patting the blades at his hip.

"Then let us be off."

* * *

A lone figure stirred in the dark cell, the stone floor freezing under her bare skin. Adalia groaned as she sat up, her head throbbing and bright colours flooding her eyes. She tentatively felt the back of her head, warm sticky blood covering her hand. She slid back against the wall, shivering against the cold dampness. A bright light flooded the room as a door opened, and she realized that she was completely naked. She pulled her knees to her chest, trying to cover herself as much as possible.

"Heh heh, well look at you. Aren't you just a pretty 'lil thin'?" a guard commented as he walked past the bars of the cage, the sound of his sword clinging on the metal as he dragged it along. Adalia had never felt more vulnerable, never so alone. The ring from her finger was gone, as was Alistair's amulet. She sound of the key turning in the lock terrified Adalia, and she pushed herself as far away from the grinning man as she could.

"Now, now, m'dear. This won't hurt a bit."

* * *

Fort Draken neared ever closer as Alistair and Zevran hurried their way to the prison. They had been walking for what felt like hours, the pair having decided to leave the horses a distance back. Riders at this time of the evening would draw unwanted attention for certain. There was a silence between them that was slowly growing awkward, and was making Alistair uncomfortable.

"So, I've been thinking..." Alistair started, stopping briefly when Zevran snorted, but ignored him. "Those ink drawings, what did you call them? Tattoos? Are you still willing to do one?"

"Oh-ho! So you've decided to take the plunge and become a man, have you? What is a little pain, am I right? Especially under the right circumstances." Zevran elbows Alistair in the ribs playfully, raising an eyebrow.

"Erm, I'm not worries about that, the pain that is. They look interesting. Though I think I would want mine smaller than yours. When can you do it?" Alistair asked, the heat creeping his face again.

"Not so fast, my friend! There's an entire ritual to how this is done! Did you not know." Alistair raised an eyebrow, shaking his head. "Well," Zevran continued, "I must first bathe you in a mixture of olive oil and rosewater." Alistair almost choked on his saliva.

"Bathe me? That's a little...odd. I don't remember Adalia being bathed..."

"It's not odd at all! And from what I recall, she was not speaking with you then. It all needs to be worked into your skin, to prepare it for receiving the ink. It is quite pleasurable, trust me. You are in good hands." Zevran winked at Alistair, a smile spreading across his face.

"The massage? You're having me on, aren't you?" Alistair took a small step away from the grinning elf, looking towards the Fort again.

"Perhaps. Would you like for me to describe the rest of the ritual to you?" Zevran asked, taking Alistairs arm into his own.

"Can you not just be serious for once!" Alistair hissed quietly, not wanting to be heard.

"Ah, my friend, you are little fun. Once we are done here, and you're lady is safe with us, we will discuss it." Alistair nodded, falling silent again.

"Thank you." he said suddenly, Zevran looking at him in surprise. "For coming with me to get Adalia. I appreciate that you actually care." Zevran nodded as he led the way up to the looming tower, remaining silent for the first time Alistair could remember.

* * *

Adalia whimpered as the man drew nearer, the sound of his belt coming undone terrifying her.

"Please, don't." she whispered hoarsely, her stomach churning. His pants dropped to the ground, and Adalia turned to the side, retching in the corner.

"Well now, it isn't that bad." the guard sneered as he bent over her, his breath hot on her cool skin. Her grabbed her calves, forcefully pulling her legs open. Adalia struggled against him, swinging her fist at his face. He recoiled, snarling at her as he grabbed her wrists, forcing them above her head.

"You little bitch." he spat on her face, saliva spraying across her lips and cheek.

"Fuck you." she tried to scream, but he voice was more than a whisper.

"Oh, I will." the grin was back as the heavy set man pushed her to the ground, still securely holding her hands. Adalia clenched her eyes shut, waiting for the invasive moment, but instead heard a grunt, and the man moved off her. She opened her eyes when she felt strong arms lifting her, a sandy haired man staring down at her. His lips were moving, but everything was fading.

"Adalia, stay with me." Alistair repeated as he carried her from the cell. Her eyes were getting heavy, and she was shaking violently.

"We need to get her out of here, now." Zevran said, appearing with a sack and armour in hand. Noticing the look on Alistairs face he nodded over his shoulder. "All of her belongings were in a chest by the door. Well, most of them..." Zevran trailed off, his eyes snapping back to Adalia when she began to convulse in Alistair's arms again.

"We'll worry about it later. Let's get moving." Alistair led the way out of the dark room, trying to move as quietly as he could. Adalia was struggling to open her eyes, struggling to look up at the man carrying her.

"Ali-"

"Shh, love. We need to be quiet." his whispered back, watching as she nodded slowly. The gash over her eye was crusted over, the blood from it smeared down the right side of her face. Tears stung his eyes, but he blinked them away. She was more important now.

"This way is clear. We can get out from here." he heard Zevran whisper, and he followed close behind, the smell of fresh air entering his nostrils. They headed for the tree line surrounding the fortress, blending into the shadows. The trip back to the horses took less time than Alistair had thought, and in no time they were speeding back to Arl Eamons estate in Denerim, his cloak wrapped around her frail body and her head slumped against his chest.

They entered the Arls estates a short time later, Wynne meeting them at the entrance way.

"Get her in here, now." the elderly mage ordered, gesturing to Adalia's quarters. Alistair obeyed, moving through the living area and into the open bedroom. He carefully lay Adalia on the bed, adjusting the cloak to preserve some of her modesty. Wynne was quickly at their sides, vials and bottles being brought forth.

"Out, boy." the mage said quietly, examining Adalia's face. When Alistair didn't move, she turned to him, her face grim. "Get out Alistair. I need room to work, and cannot have you breathing down my neck." the Warden nodded, slowly backing out of the room, his eyes not leaving his lover until the door closed in front of him.

Wynne turned back to the pale girl, still shaking even in the warmth of the room. Wynne pulled back the cloak, her hands glowing as she healed open wounds. Adalia's breath was shallow, her heart barely audible. Burns on the young woman's shoulders and back showed the torture she endured before being left alone in the cell. Wynne slowly poured a potion down the young woman's throat, praying to the Maker that she would be alright.

* * *

Adalia groaned as she felt the cold cloth run down the side of her face. She tried to move away in protest, but Alistair held her gently in place.

"It's alright, 'Dalia. You're safe." he whispered, softly kissing her forehead. She opened her eyes, squinting as they adjusted to the light. Alistairs amber eyes smiled down at her, and she couldn't help but smile back as he continued to wipe the dry blood from her face. "How are you feeling?"

"Like I got beating half to death." she groaned, her clammy hand moving to her head. She felt the side of her face where Howe had managed to cut her, Alistair quickly moving her hand.

"Wynne healed it. You'll have a little scar, but getting all this blood off is going to be the real battle." Alistair grinned, wiping her face again.

"Oh, sod it. Give me that." Adalia took the cloth from him, scrubbing at her face. Alistair chuckled, taking the soiled cloth back as Adalia forced herself into a sitting position. The glimmer of a chain around Alistair's neck caught her attention.

"The amulet... was it damaged?" she asked, watching as Alistair pulled it from his shirt.

"Eh, a little chip, but it's definitely seen worse days. From what I hear, it saved your life." he said, sliding up the bed beside her. He listened to her silently while she told him of what had happened in Fort Drakon, giving her the occasional ghost of a kiss on her forehead. When she was done, Alistair pulled her close, trying to hide the tears in his eyes.

"I have some bad news for you." he said when his eyes had dried. Adalia looked up at him, her grey eyes rimmed red from tears. "All of your things were found in Fort Drakon, except for your ring." he said quietly, rubbing her ring finger gently. Adalia's fist curled, but Alistair didn't let her speak. "It's okay. It's just a ring. I'll get you a brand new one. Bigger, and shinier! We have each other, and that's all that matters here." he brought her hand gently to his lips, kissing each of her fingers.

"Yeah, you're right." she leaned against his chest, breathing in his spicy, woodsy scent. "A bigger one sounds nice. Ooh, with sapphires this time!" Alistair chuckled, stroking her hair.

"Anything you wish, m'lady. In all serious, though. Are you alright? I mean, I know you aren't alright, per se, but is there anything I can do, or get you...?" Adalia brought a finger to his lips, the words blowing out of his mouth stopping as fast as they started.

"I'm as good as I can be. All I need is some rest, a stiff drink, and a great big bowl of that stew from the tavern. Maybe two." Alistair stood laughing as someone knocked on the door.

"I'll see what I can do about that." he winked at her as he pulled the door open. Wynne stood there, a tray in her hand.

"Alistair. I need to see Adalia." the mage said, looking at the girl over his shoulder.

"Sure, come on in." Alistair stepped to the side, gesturing for her to enter.

"Alone." she stated matter of factly, and waiting for Alistair to leave. He looked from the mage to the Warden, who nodded, giving him a reassuring smile. Alistair left with the promise of food, moving slowly out of the hopes he would hear something. Wynne closed the door, sliding the bolt across.

"We need to talk."


	10. Chapter 10: One Hundred Stories

**Chapter Ten**: One Hundred Stories

* * *

Winter was setting in, the air cold as a thin layer of snow dusted the packed dirt ground of the Denerim market. Adalia pulled her heavy cloak around her self, moving through the bustle of the market. She moved quickly down a back alley, towards the warehouse Riordan had directed her to. She glanced around before slipping through the door unnoticed, relieved to be out of the wind. She moved to the back of the room, sliding a bookcase to the side. Her back screamed in pain, her wounds still healing, but she pushed harder, revealing a hidden door. Sliding the key in, Adalia's eyes lit up at the sight before her. Grey Warden armour stood along the wall, gleaming in what little light poured through a small window on the eastern wall. Weapons will racks, some damaged and bloody, others looking as though they were just forged. But that wasn't why she was here. She moved around, opening crates and cabinets until she found the treasure she was looking for. She held it up, her eyes sparkling as she smiled. She quickly wrapped the prize up in a spare piece of linen she found in a crate, locking and hiding the room once again as she departed back into the market.

The Landsmeet loomed over them, all nobles gathering to hear what was to be said; to make a decision on the fate of Ferelden. Adalia and Alistair sat in the Gnawed Nobel, their companions chatting happily around them. Spirits were high, despite the chances of them losing in two days time. Adalia sat quietly, smiling slightly as her friends joked around, her mood not having improved much since the night Alistair and Zevran rescued her. She looked down at the cuts across her knuckles, a reminder of Howe's fate. When she looked up, a man was standing at the foot of the table, his eyes on her.

"Bann Sighard," she addressed him with a nod, her companions falling silent, "what can I do for you?"

"Poor Oswyn, he described what happened to him in great detail. He told me you lot saved him. I owe you for his life." the man said somberly, his eyes pained.

"I would leave no man to suffer at Howe's hands. I am only happy to help." Sighard shook his head, rubbing his face.

"When I saw my poor boys legs... How I only wish that Rendon Howe still lives, so that I might tear him apart myself." the man slammed a fist on the wooden table, ale sloshing from the heavy mugs. "I would bring troops against his son, but Oswyn tells me Thomas had no part in his fathers depravity. Is there anything you would as a reward for saving my dear son." Adalia glanced briefly towards Alistair, who merely nodded at her.

"All I, we, want is for you to speak out against Loghain at the Landsmeet." Sighard nodded, a smile on his face.

"Know that I will stand with you at the Landsmeet with all the support I can muster. In fact, I am taking my supper tonight with Bann Reginalda of the White River Bannorn. I will speak with her about this at once. Again, my thanks, and good luck to you all." with that the aging man was gone, Alistair clapping the smaller woman on the shoulder.

"There's one down. With your brother, and Bann Reginalda, we're getting a good start." he said brightly. How she admired his enthusiasm, how she wished she could be as confident.

"It's too late for a good start, my Lord." how he hated being called that. She pushed her way from the table, removing a ring from her pocket. "Let us see if we can get a few more on our side." she saw Bann Alfstanna sitting in the corner, and moved towards her. The Bann glanced up at the Warden as she lay the ring on the table.

"I was told to give this to you." Adalia said, the gold ring rolling in circles as the Bann grabbed it.

"This is Irminric's. Explain yourself! My brother would no more part with this ring than his head." the Bann was quickly on her feet, her hand on the hilt of her sword.

"He needs your help. He-"

"He's alive then? Please, if you have any news of my brother, I would hear it!"

"He is in the dungeon of the Howe's estate. He was taken there." Adalia said, placing a calming hand on the older woman's shoulder. She remembered Alfstana from her childhood. She was a good woman, a reasonable one. Adalia knew she would be an ally tomorrow.

"A dungeon? No, I must go to him at once! Someone will answer for this at once!" the Bann made her way to the door of the tavern, then stopped, back tracking a few steps. "You are Bryce Couslands youngest, are you not? I thought I recognized you, though it looks as though your adventures have taken their toll on you, my friend. I wish for you to take this." she handed Adalia a dagger, it's beautiful onyx handle cool to the touch. "It's been in my family for generations. Let it be a sign of the friendship between Highever and the Waking sea. I will be there with you at the Landsmeet, and I will lend you some of my bowmen to help with this Blight." with that, the red haired woman was gone, Adalia left with a small smile on her face. She was getting there. Alistair appeared at her side, leaning down into her ear.

"We should be off to the Alienage. There is lots to be done there." Adalia nodded, taking the tankard of ale from Alistair's hand and drinking it in two large gulps.

"Let's go then." she said to the group, placing the now empty mug back on the table. Alistair's eyes followed her as she led, not sure if he should be impressed or embarrassed at her drinking skills. Adalia led the way to the Alienage entrance, stopping at the start across the long bridge.

"Uh, not to be a downer or anything, but we're not going to be mobbed, are we? That's not something elves do here? Mob people?" Adalia sighed, shaking her head.

"You were the one that told me the only thing you've ever gotten from Denerim was pick pocketed, and so far you seem to be doing alright." she tapped the purse hanging from Alistair's hip, which he promptly moved inside of his armour.

"Yes, well, we don't necessarily have the best luck, do we?"

* * *

Alistair threw himself down on his bed, his body aching and relieved to be in the warmth of his own room. He pulled off his armour, tossing it to the floor. His new set stood in the corner, the same brilliant gold as Cailans, but the griffin of the Wardens brightly emblazoned on the front. He heard the door to his room open, and Adalia huff as she kicked a piece of armour out of the way.

"The maids are going to talk if you keep just letting yourself in to my quarters." he joked, Adalia dropping herself onto the bed next to him.

"They already talk. Mostly about how handsome you are, and how I must of had a spell cast on you to make you love a mess of a woman like me." she said into the heavy blanket, her voice muffled. Alistair laughed, pulling the raven haired woman into his lap.

"Well, you have to remember, maid-impregnating runs in the family. Maybe they're just hopeful!" he flinched as Adalia punched him jokingly, laughing. He gestured to a chest sitting in the corner of the room, nudging her towards it.

"I got something for you. It isn't full of sapphires mind you, but I think you'll love it all the same." Adalia reluctantly stood, opening the chest. She lifted the metallic blue armour from the chest, turning to smile at Alistair.

"It's beautiful! Dragon scale?" the sandy haired man nodded, sliding his legs onto the bed.

"I had Wade make it for you. Light enough that you can move, but those scales will stop pretty much anything. I had to pay him extra just to have him put the Grey Warden symbol on it. Apparently he's not a fan of 'customizing,' though I did change to logo a little. It's a little more appropriate." Alistair waved his hands in the air, rolling his eyes. Adalia smiled at the armour, the Cousland laurel surrounding the Grey Warden emblem, putting it back in the chest.

"Thank you. I have something for you, as well." she said as she grabbed the paper wrapped package, sliding onto the bed next to him. Alistair pulled her into his chest.

"Ooh, I live for presents!" Alistair said happily, taking the package from her. He undid the twine holding it together, a smile crossing his face as he looked at the object in his lap. He picked up the stuffed golem doll, turning it around in his hand.

"Wow, you really do listen to everything I say. It's almost identical to the one I had when I was younger." Adalia smiled, watching as he admired it.

"Wonders of Thedas has lots of different ones, so you can start a collection!" Adalia chuckled.

"Later. With the Landsmeet tomorrow, all I want right now it this." Alistair said, putting the golem on the side table. Adalia smiled, sliding her hand up the back of Alistair's neck and into his hair, scratching gently. He groaned, moving into her hand. How he loved that. Adalia kissed below his ear, nipping at his jawline.

"Oh, sorry, I forgot. All you want are cuddles." she moved to pull away, but Alistair grabbed her, pulling her over so she was straddling his hips.

"Cuddles later. For now-" Adalia broke his words off with a kiss, her hands swiftly undoing the buttons of his tunic.

"Oh, you little minx." he growled as she leaned over and blew out the candles on the nightstand.

"You should probably sleep. You need to be well rested for tomorrow." she whispered in his ear, her tongue caressing his lobe. He chuckled, pushing her hips into his.

"I'm not quite tired yet. I can think of more important things to do before sleep." he flipped Adalia on to her back, his lips on her neck.

"Like your laundry? Or perhaps picking up the armour that is scattered everywhere? I also remember telling Eamon you were going to finish reading those books that he gave you, about Landsmeets and addressing nobles and all that." Alistair sighed into her neck, shaking his head.

"No. I'd rather have one last night with the woman I'm in love with, before all hell breaks loose." Adalia smiled at him, seemingly accepting his answer.

The fire in the hearth was long out by the time Alistair drifted to sleep, his future bride nestled in his arms, neither of them truly prepared for the day to come.


	11. Chapter 11: We've Had Enough

**Chapter Eleven**: We've Had Enough

Blessed are they who stand before  
The corrupt and the wicked and do not falter.  
Blessed are the peacekeepers, the champions of the just.

_-Benedictions 4:10_

* * *

_Alistair's ears were deceiving him. He was sure he had heard crying. He looked around the dark passages of the Deep Roads, the small fire barely giving enough light to see ten paces in either direction. The shadows being cast on the walls were giving him the creeps, the black growth on the walls almost pulsing. No, there it was again, quiet and muffled, like a child whimpering into their pillow. He stood, slowly moving in the direction the noise was coming from. He rounded the corner of a dark tunnel, his eyes adjusting slowly. Adalia sat on a large rock, her hands covering her face. Alistair slowly moved closer, gently placing a hand on one of her trembling shoulders. She stiffened instantly, quickly rubbing her tears away._

_"Alistair. Sorry, I didn't mean to disturb you." she sniffled, looking away from her companion. Alistair knelt down beside her, moving her face so she was looking at him._

_"What's wrong Addy?" he asked softly as he stroked her cheek. Adalia just shook her head, looking away again. Alistair moved closer, sitting next to her on the stone. Adalia pulled her knees to her chest, wrapping her arms tightly around them._

_"When my time comes please don't let me come down her alone." she whispered, still avoiding his eyes._

_"We have years before we even have to worry about that." he said, stroking her hair. "What brought this on?" he asked, turning her face again. Adalia remained silent, before looking up at the sandy haired Warden._

_"The Broodmother. Oghren told me that they were female Wardens. That when they came down here for the Calling, instead of fighting to death the darkspawn capture them, and change them into.. into that." Adalia started sobbing again, her shoulder violently shaking. Alistair silently cursed the drunk dwarf under his breath, pulling Adalia towards him. She laid her head in his lap, tears still flowing._

_"When our time comes, I promise I will be at your side." Alistair trailed his fingers through her knotted hair. "And after all those years together, we'll probably be ready to kill each other. I'll just make sure I get to you first. Just like you want." Adalia chuckled pathetically, slapping his knee. She sat up, looking at the man in front of her._

_"Promise?" she asked, biting her nails._

_"Promise."_

* * *

Alistair took a deep breath as he claimed the stone stairs to the front of the palace. The knot in his stomach twisted again, and he resisted the urge to vomit. He paused to look up at the massive snow covered building when Adalia rested a hand on his elbow.

"Don't worry about it. We're going to win this." she smiled up at him, and gave her a weak smile back. She looked beautiful in the armour he had gotten her from Wade, not something he ever thought he would be saying about a woman. A pain struck his heart thinking about it. He squeezed her hand, and silently entered the heavily guarded castle.

Ser Cauthrien was standing there, as though waiting for them. Alistair heard Zevran's blades loosen from their sheaths, and he held a hand up for him to stop.

"Warden, I am not surprised it has come to this. And Alistair. If you were even remotely worthy of being called Maric's son, you would already be in the Landsmeet, wouldn't you?" the woman crossed the room so she stood a swords length away. "You have torn Ferelden apart to oppose the very man who ensured you were born into freedom. But do not think you will get past me to desecrate the Landsmeet itself. The nobles of Ferelden will confirm my lord as regent, and we can finally put this to rest. Once you are gone."

"Do you really not see what Loghain has become? Do you not see what he had done to the country, what he has done to me? I have scars to show for it. Those may fade, but my memories of it will not. Just as the memories of his betrayal will not fade from the memories of the people." Adalia said bravely, taking a step closer to the woman. She held her head high and proud, the years of training her parents had insisted she received shining through.

Ser Cauthrien faltered, taking a step backwards. The look on the woman's face said everything.

"I was tortured for hours, for no reason. They didn't want information, they just wanted to have some fun. And if Alistair and Zevran had not saved me, I would have been raped. And then who knows what would have happened. Would I have been killed? Or perhaps kept as a play toy for the bored guards." Adalia took another step towards Ser Cauthrien, the anger rising in her voice. "What do you think would happen to you, if you ever disobeyed the man, lieutenant? Do you think he would let you off with a slap on the wrist, or do you think he would do the same to you as he has done to so many?" Adalia was now nearly nose to nose with the woman, a look of near-fear spreading on the knight's face. "What of the people of Ferelden? You leave Loghain to rule and what do you think is going to happen to this country? That man is so paranoid and deluded, he will see everyone as an enemy." Adalia eased up on the woman, taking a step backwards to watch her.

"I have had many doubts of late. Loghain is a great man, but his hatred of Orlais has driven him to madness. He has done terrible things, I know it, but I owe him everything. I am so sorry for everything that was done do you, I am, but I cannot betray him. Please do not ask me to." Ser Cauthrien was practically on her knees begging.

"Then let me stop him. You know that is the only way." Adalia said, her tone softer. The lieutenant looked aside, appearing ashamed.

"I never thought duty would taste so bitter. Stop him, Warden. Stop him from betraying everything he once loved. But please, show mercy. Without Loghain there would be no Ferelden to defend." Adalia walked past the woman, Alistair and Zevran on her heels. She paused before opening the doors to the great hall, casting a glance over her shoulder.

"I promise you the same mercy he showed me."

"My lords and Ladies of the Landsmeet, Loghain would have us give up our freedoms, our traditions out of fear! He places us on the path, yet we should place our trust in his hands? Must we sacrifice everything good about our lands to save it?" Arl Eamons voice filled the room. Alistair looked around, becoming more and more terrified. The room was completely packed, every seat filled, and some.

"A fine performance, Eamon, but no one here is taken in by it." Loghains voice follow Eamons, and a chill ran down Alistair's spine as he pushed his way to the front behind Adalia. "You would attempt too put a puppet on the throne, and every soul here knows it. The better question is who will pull the strings?" Adalia had made her way to the front, and from what Alistair heard next knew Loghain had already seen her.

"Ah, the puppeteer! Tell us, Warden, how will the Orlesians take our nation from us? Will they deign to send their troops, or will they simply issue their commands through this would be prince?" Alistair had made it to the front, Zevran right at his side, hands ever on the hilts of his blades. "What did they offer you? What is the price of Ferelden honour now?" the Teryn's voice boomed.

"You are delusional. This has nothing to do with Orlais! And I am not the one who betrayed Ferelden!" Adalia's voice was like ice as she stood up against the man.

"Some of us are curious, Loghain, about what precisely happened at Ostagar." an out of place voice said, and Alistair looked up to see Arl Bryland standing, his hands white knuckled on the railing of the upstairs seating. Loghain ignored the man, and the shouts following the Arl's statement, turning back to address Adalia again.

"So one of Cailan's killers would dare to speak of betrayal. You led out king to his death with your grandiose tales of griffins flying into battle!"

"You were the one who fled the battle, and left him and everyone else to die!" Alistair could hear Adalia's voice shaking.

"Do continue, the Landsmeet hungers to hear the tactical analysis of Ostagar from a spoiled child." Ceorlic's voice rang out, and Adalia's face reddened in anger, but it was her turn to ignore the comments.

"You were the one who sold Ferelden citizen's into slavery." Adalia continued. The voices rose again, nobles shouting out demands for explanations. "YOU were the one who allowed Rendon Howe to imprison and torture innocents!" her voice was full of venom, frightening even Alistair. He admired her bravery. Bann Sighard was instantly on his feet.

"The Warden speaks truly! My son was taken under the cover of night. The things done to him... some of them were beyond any healer's skill. The Warden save his life. Who knows what would have happened to him."

"Howe was responsible for himself. He is the one who must answer to the Maker for any wrongs committed in this life, as must we all. But it appears the Warden already solved the issue with Howe, did you not? You were the one who murdered the man, rather viciously I must say." Loghain sneered across the room at the smaller woman, who didn't flinch. "Whatever Howe may have done, he should have been brought before the seneschal. There is no justice in butchering a man in his home." Adalia almost laughed at that.

"Just like my father was butchered? Then why send a blood mage to poison Arl Eamon?" she asked, folding her arms tightly across her chest.

"I assure you, Warden, if I were going to send someone it would be my own soldiers. I would not trust the discretion of an apostate."

"Indeed? My brother tells a very different story. He says you snatched a blood mage from the Chantry's justice. Coincidence?" Bann Alfstanna asked loudly. Alistair watched as Loghain's expression faltered, just for a hair of a second. "Oh, surprised to hear that? My brother is alive, after the Warden rescued him as well, Loghain." Alfstanna nodded to Adalia, who gave the Bann a faint smile.

"Do not think the Chantry will overlook this, Loghain. Interference in a templars sacred duties is an offence against the Maker." Now Grand Cleric Elemena was getting involved, Alistair thought, shuddering again slightly. He had hated that woman growing up, but she may be an ally in the end.

"Whatever I have done, I will answer for later. At the moment, however, I wish to know what the Warden has done with my daughter." Adalia looked up at Alistair, confused.

"What on earth are you talking about?" she asked Loghain as he took a few steps closer to her.

"You took my daughter, our queen, by force, killing her guards in the process. What arts have you employed to keep her. Does she still live?"

"I have done no sure thing! The last I saw of her she was-" Adalia was interrupted by the doors at the rear of the room swinging open.

"I believe I can speak for myself." Anora announced as she strode her, her long lavender dress trailing behind her. "Lords and ladies of Ferelden, this Warden has slandered and defamed Ferelden's greatest hero in a bid to put an imposter on Maric's throne!"

"I knew you were lying the whole time." Adalia growled, Anora's eyes on her.

"Oh, she turned on us! What a shock. And she seemed like such a nice despot." Alistair said sarcastically, Adalia spinning to him.

"That's the first thing you have to say through this whole thing? No defending yourself, or me? I think I preferred you silent." she hissed, Zevran chuckling at Alistair's side.

"My father will always do what must be done for Ferelden, and it is clear to me that you will not. I offered you the change to ally with me for the good of this nation, and you refused it. I will not allow you to destroy the throne Cailan and I have held."

"Who here can say that Anora is not fit to rule this land? And who can say that this Alistair is? We know nothing of him save that he may have royal blood. For five years Anora has been queen and proven herself worthy of the Theirin name. She can lead out people through this crisis and I can lead her armies."

Alistair looked down at Adalia, the worry written on his face. The vote was being called for.

"The Warden! I am with the Warden!" Ban Vaughan yelled out.

"One." Adalia whispered.

"Western Hill is with you, Loghain. Maker help us all." Alistair cursed under his breath.

"I am with Loghain!" Bann Loren's voice rang out.

"South Reach stands with the Wardens." Two.

"Dragon's Peak is with Adalia Cousland." Bann Sighards voice rang out.

"Waking seas is with the Wardens!" Alfstanna bellowed proudly. Four.

"I stand by Loghain. We've no hope of victory otherwise." Ceorlic practically whimpered.

"I hate that man." Adalia grumbled.

"I stand with Loghain." another voice rang out, Alistair struggling to see who it came from as two others echoed the same response.

"I am with Alistair and the Wardens." Arl Eamon stepped next to Adalia, a hand on her shoulder. What was the count at?

"Six to five." Adalia's heart stopped.

"This bodes ill for us all." Eamon said quietly as he looked around to room.

"But how can they follow that traitor?" Adalia whispered back, hand hand tightly grasping Alistair's.

"The Landsmeet has spoken! Following these Wardens has cost us out king. We must not allow it to cost us our country. I charge Eamon, Alistair, and the Warden Adalia Cousland with treason. Take the traitors outside to await execution!" Loghain barked, pointing towards the group.

"Wait. I believe I have a vote." Adalia and Alistair spun towards the voice. Fergus, of course! Alistair hadn't even noticed he wasn't in the crowd. "Highever stands, and always will, with Alistair Theirin, and with the Grey Wardens." Alistair felt a surge of happiness in his chest. A tie. That's better than losing, right?

"What in Andraste's flaming sword took you so damn long?" Adalia asked, reaching up to give her brother a hug.

"I woke up late. Ow, don't beat me!"

"Alistair's right to the throne is challenged, his challengers honour is in doubt. In the past, such disputes were settled by duel. Will the Landsmeet agree?" the Grand Cleric asked the nobles.

"Yes, if it will avoid bloodshed. But it must be fought according to tradition: by strength of arms only, in single combat, until one party yields. Do you accept the terms?"

"After all he's done, you expect Loghain to fight a fair duel?" Adalia scoffed.

"Though you may count my honour as worth less than nothing, Warden, we are standing before the nobles of Ferelden. They will judge us both on our actions here." Loghain said over his shoulder.

"Fine, I accept." Alistair announced loudly, a few nobles appearing to have just noticed his presence.

"Will you face me yourself, or will you have a champion?" Loghain asked the prince.

"We should send Perses to fight him." Adalia said under her breath.

"Ah, Warden... No. I'm afraid we can't leave the fate of all Ferelden up to your dog. Anyone with a leftover ham bone could buy his allegiance." Arl Eamon said, apparently having missed the sarcasm. "Choose someone else, if you would Alistair. You're not an option here. We can't risk loosing your life."

"Grey Warden Adalia Cousland will be my champion." Alistair said with a nod, nudging Adalia forward. Adalia nodded walking to the center of the room. As she passed Anora, something caught her eye.

"Anora, that ring is marvelous. Where on earth did you get it?" Anora's hand instantly clenched, the look on her face saying it all.

"I just picked up somewhere over the years." Adalia moved closer to the woman, who sunk back.

"Really, Anora? Because I'm pretty sure that's the ring that was taken from me when I was stripped and tortured in Fort Drakon. The same ring you had been eyeing earlier." Adalia held her hand out palm up, and waited. Anora glanced around the room at the nobles watching her, and slid the ring off of her finger. Adalia smiled, nodding to the woman as she pocketed the valued possession.

Adalia met Loghain in the center of the room, her father's sword drawn and ready, the dagger Bann Alfstanna gave her strapped to her hip.

"May the Maker forgive you Loghain." Adalia said as she readied herself. Loghain smiled at her, raising his sword.

"You seem so sure you're going to win this. Remember, child, I have been doing this for many moons longer than you." Adalia wasn't give a chance to retort as Loghain brought his blade down with massive strength, nearly knocking the Warden off her feet.

Alistair watched nervously as Adalia met the blows of the Teryn, not realizing that he was holding his breath.

"Relax, my Lord. She knows what she is doing." Fergus said reassuringly.

"Oh please don't call me that." Alistair groaned as Fergus chuckled. A loud clanging and a feminine grunt drew their attention to the fight. Alistair didn't know what he has missed, but Adalia was on her back, Loghain nearing her. He instinctively moved to aid her, both both Eamon and Fergus stopped him. Adalia swung her legs backwards, flipping back up onto her feet. Within seconds the sword was back in her hands, and she was making contact with the side of Loghains armour. The sound of metal on metal rang out through the hall, Adalia backing Loghain up. A blow met the gap in between the armour on his thigh, drawing blood. Loghain howled, swinging downwards. Adalia ducked out of the way, Loghains sword hitting the stone floor. She seized her opportunity, throwing out a side kick, knocking the Teryn off his feet. Adalia quickly sprung, kicking his fallen sword away from him, hers at his throat before he had a chance to respond.

"You will die for what you've done." Adalia said calmly, not moving the sword until Alistair was at her side, slowly moving her hand.

"Don't even let anyone tell you that you don't belong, Adalia. Maric brought a female Warden to Ferelden, a Dalish elf. I told him she didn't belong, didn't deserve to be in his honour. She turned out to be one of the best warriors I've ever seen. I have never met an equal with the bow before or since." Adalia looked down at the man, a look of confusion on her face. "I underestimated you. I thought you were like Cailan; a child wanting to play at war. I was wrong. There is a strength in you I have not since anywhere since Maric died. Or anywhere since that Elf left, for that matter." Loghain breathed deeply, trying to catch his breath. "I yield."

"Wardens, there is another option. The Teryn is a warrior and a general of renown. Let him be of use. Let him go through the Joining." Riordan was at their side, his cold eyes on Adalia.

"There are too few of us. It's not a matter of what we like, it's a matter of what we must do. Our duty is to slay the Archdemon. We are not judges. Kinslayers, blood mages, traitors, rebels, carta thugs, common bandits: anyone with the skill and mettle to take up the sword against the darkspawn is welcome among us. There are three of us in all of Ferelden, and there are... compelling reasons to have as many Wardens on hand as possible to deal with the Archdemon."

"The Joining itself is often fatal, is it not? If he survives, you gain a general. If not, you have your revenge. Does that not satisfy you?" Alistair shuddered at the sound of Anora's voice. It hurt his ears. Alistair spun to face her, anger flooding his face.

"Absolutely not! This man abandoned our brothers and then blamed us for the deed! He hunted us like animals, he tortured Adalia. How can we simply forget that?" he practically spat on Anora's face, his ire boiling over.

"I stand with Alistair." Adalia said calmly, looking Riordan straight in the eye. "Loghain has to die for his crimes."

"You cannot do this! My father may have been wrong, but he is still a hero to the people. Think about all he has done for us." Anora was begging, and she tried to run to her father, tried to shield him with her body, but Alistair put an arm up, stopping her in her place.

"Anora, hush. It's over." the Teryn tried to comfort her, but his attempts were futile.

"Stop treating me like a child! This is serious!" Tears were streaming down the now former queen's face, her skin blotchy.

"Daughters never grow up, Anora. They remain six years old with pigtails and skinned knees forever. Just make this quick, Warden. I can face the Maker knowing Ferelden is in your hands."

"Very well." Adalia looked up at Alistair, who nodded, drawing his sword.

"This is for Duncan."

Loghain raised to his knees, his eyes cast to the blue rug. Without a thought against the matter Alistair brought the heavy sword down. Blood sprayed across the front of Anora's dress, and the former queen fell to her knees as her fathers head rolled across the floor, a small scream passing her lips. Alistair took a step back from the body as it slumped to the ground, wiping blood off his face. People were talking all around him; Eamon was beside him, his hand on his shoulder, but he wasn't listening to the words coming from him. He felt as though he was going to throw up. He thought killing Loghain would bring him some sort of satisfaction, but it didn't.

'I'm no better than him.' he thought. 'I killed a man on his knees...'

"What a mistake." Riordan said quietly.

"So it is decided. Alistair will take his father's throne." He sudden realized what Eamon was saying.

"Wait, what? When did this get decided? No one decided that. Did they?" he looked from Eamon to Adalia, and back to Eamon.

"He refused the throne. Everyone here has heard him. I think it is clear then, that he abdicated in favour of me." Alistair rubbed his face as the voices around them raised.

"I refuse to have the spawn of a monster like Loghain on the throne!" he heard Bann Sighard shout over them.

"What a clusterfuck." Adalia muttered, earning a slap on the arm from Fergus. She rolled her eyes at her brother. "Well is it."

"I hardly think you're the appropriate person here to mediate this, Anora. Adalia, will you help us?

"Right, because she's a better choice." Anora stated. Adalia ignored her, turning to Alistair.

"Are you ready for this?" she asked him quietly, reaching for his hand. She could feel everyone's eyes watching her.

"I feel like I'm back at the abbey trying to not get chosen last for the sparring teams." Alistair knew by the look Adalia gave him that now was not the appropriate time for his jokes. He pulled his hand away from her, shifting awkwardly. "Are there people who are ready for this sort of thing? I'll do my best for the people." he said, looking at Arl Eamon as he spoke.

"Then Warden, as the arbiter of this dispute, what is your decision? Who will lead Ferelden?" Eamon asked.

"Alistair will be king, and follow in his father and his brother's footsteps." Adalia announced, smiling at the cheer that passed Bann Alfstanna's lips.

"This is usually where I wake up. Or where everyone points and laughs because I have no clothes on." Alistair said quietly, Eamon looking unimpressed with him.

"Anora, the Landsmeet has decided against you. You must now swear fealty to our king, and relinquish all claim to the throne for yourself and any possible heirs." Anora scoffed at Eamon.

"If you think I will swear that oath, Eamon, you know nothing of me."

"Anora, would you be reasonable." Adalia hissed at the woman.

"Reason clearly had nothing to do with your choice, Warden. What promises did he make you?" Adalia frowned at the woman, resisting the urge to smack her in the mouth.

"We cannot leave Ferelden in a state of civil war. We must have unity. If she will not swear fealty to you, Alistair, and renounce her claim to the throne then she is a threat to us all."

"Put her in the tower for now. Lock her up. I'll deal with her later." Alistair waved her off as two well armed guards took her from the room. He turned back, all eyes of the Landsmeet on him.

"I never knew him, but from all I've heard of my father, what defined him was his commitment to protecting this land. I may be Maric's son, but I am also a Grey Warden. I took an oath. I swore I would stand and fight the darkspawn, no matter the cost to myself. I cannot break that oath just to wear the crown. I have to go with my fellow Wardens," Alistairs arm swooped towards Adalia and Riordan, "to face the Blight. When the Blight is over, I will come back to take up my duties as king. Until then, Arl Eamon will serve as my regent."

"Then I can do Maric's memory no less honour than you do. And may the Maker bless your efforts against the darkspawn." Eamon said stepping forward.

"My fellow Grey Warden will hopefully take Loghain's place as the leader of my armies when this is all through." Adalia nodded, taken back by the offer.

"Have them get the armies moving." she said quietly. "We must get moving now. Ferelden is depending on us right now."

"The Blight is coming. Nobody can deny that now." Alistair replied, turning back to the Landsmeet. "Everyone, get ready to march. It's going to take all of Ferelden's strength to fight this Blight, but we will face it and we will defeat it. To arms!"


	12. Chapter 12: Queen of Pain

**Chapter Twelve**: Queen of Pain

* * *

Adalia sat in a large chair facing the fire, her back to everyone in the room. She waited patiently for Alistair, for her orders to head to Redcliffe. Wine was being passed around, the sound of people laughing and singing along with Leliana filled the air. She wasn't in the mood for celebrations. The Blight was upon them, their biggest feat ahead.

"Adalia." she heard Alistair's voice, barely more than a whisper come from over her shoulder. She turned, giving him a small smile.

"Your Highness." Adalia bowed her head, laughing inside at Alistair's discomfort.

"Look, we need to talk." Adalia frowned as Alistair sat next to her, his fingers rubbing at a non existent smudge on his armour. "I don't really question why you did what you did. Why you fought so hard for me to be king. I really didn't want to take on that role, but I had to. But being king raises some questions about us. About you and me." he still wasn't looking at her.

"You knew this was the plan. You've known for months. It doesn't need to impact us at all."

"I'm not so sure of that. I've though of almost nothing for weeks, believe me. But Eamon...he made a lot of valid points."

"Eamon?" Adalia's face twisted, confused. What did he have to say about their relationship.

"The fact that you and I are both Grey Wardens. Having two on the throne won't go over well. It's not just a question of obligation, but of blood. You know that a Warden doesn't live to become old." Alistair continued.

"Yes, I'm aware..."

"As King, I'll be required to have a child. Even more so because my death is assured." he wasn't even letting her finish a sentence. "That's assuming that someone with the taint can or even should have a child. All the Grey Wardens I knew with children had them before they joined the Order." thoughts were racing through Adalia's head, her thumb and forefinger twisting the ring on her left hand.

"But, you said..."

"I will need to find a wife, one who can bare a child. One who will live to raise it. I don't relish it but I will have a duty as the king. Eamon has made that clear to me several times. I love you more than I ever thought possible, but I have to face what this means. I cannot run away from it anymore." Adalia was suddenly very aware that the room was now silent, her friends watching them intently. She didn't know what to say to him. Her eyes were filling with tears, her heart racing in her chest. He was ending this. Ending them. After everything that had happened with them, after the promises, the secrets, the whispered I love you's, now they were over.

"Nobody can force the king to do anything he doesn't want to." she whispered.

"Meaning what? Are you suggesting that..."

"I am not suggesting anything. I'm telling you that what you decide is your choice. It's time for you to stop letting people control your life. You need to start making your own damn decisions, and stop acting like.. like.. a puppet!" Adalia was on her feet, her face red. She wavered a little, suddenly light headed. She grabbed on to the top of the chair for support.

"A puppet?" Alistair was on his feet just as fast, and just as red. Adalia saw Zevran inching closer in the shadows, being the over protective friend that he was to her.

"Yes. You do what everyone tells you to do, and never think from yourself. That's been proven time and time again since we met. So this is it. It's over." she was going to faint. She could feel it. The room was getting darker, and there was a pressure building in her temples. She felt someone's arm loop her waist, and turned slightly to see Wynne, and not Zevran as she had been expecting.

"I think that's best, for both our sakes."

"Good. Then you are an ass." Adalia turned, pulling away from Wynne.

"And you are just desperate to be queen!" Alistair snapped. He barely had time to blink before Adalia raised her gauntleted fist and made contact with the side of the new king's jaw. He was taken off guard and stumbled to the side, hitting the stone wall with a dull 'thud.' By the time he recovered Adalia was gone, the heavy wood door slamming shut behind her.

"Oh, Alistair, you twat!" Morrigan shouted at him, storming out of the room before anyone else had the chance to move. Alistair slammed himself into the chair with such force Wynne thought the thing was going to break under him, the king rubbing his bruised face. Morrigan reappeared a short time later, whispering into Wynne's ear. Adalia was gone.


	13. Chapter 13: This Is Getting Over You

**Chapter Thirteen**: This Is Getting Over You

* * *

_The sun beamed in through the open window, Adalia pulling the heavy quilt over her eyes. She really shouldn't have drank so much ale the evening before. Someone pounded on her bedroom door, and Adalia groan in protest, rolling over and trying to sink deeper into the feather filled mattress._

_"Adalia! It's time for you to get up. It's well past noon, and we have guests arriving shortly." the door to her room opened, and Adalia pulled the blankets down, Eleanor standing over her. Teyrna Cousland's hands were planted firmly on her hips, a disapproving look on her face._

_"Just give me another ten minutes." Adalia groaned again, rubbing her eyes. She heard her mother sigh heavily, and drawers of the heavy wooden dresser begin opening._

_"You've had more than enough time. I already had a bath drawn for you. Get up, get bathed, get dressed, and get downstairs." That was a demand. Adalia rubbed her eyes again, sliding her feet over the edge of the bed. Why was everything so blurry? She stumbled into an adjoining room, steam and the smell of lavender filled the air. Her head was pounding, and her stomach was doing flips. She slipped her nightgown off, sliding into the hot water. She breathed in the deep floral scent and slid under the water. She resurfaced, wringing the water out of her hair. She picked up a heavy bar of soap, lathering her skin. She rinsed off, and grudgingly lifted herself out of the warm water, wrapping a thick towel around herself. Adalia rubbed the goosebumps from her arms as she headed back to her bedroom, finding a dress laid out on her bed for her. Red, she always did like red._

_"Why aren't you dressed? Our guests are here, my dear, and we're waiting for you." Eleanor's voice took Adalia by surprise, and she nearly jumped out of her skin. "Here, I'll help you." The Teyrna was suddenly beside her, the dress being pulled over Adalia's head. The damp towel had barely hit the ground before Eleanor was doing up the heavy laces of the bodice, Adalia's breath catching in her throat. Why was everything still so cloudy? Shoes appeared on her feet, satiny Orlesian shoes, ribbons tying them around her ankles._

_"Let's get your hair done. The ball has probably started!" Eleanor led Adalia to the vanity, pushing her into the chair._

_"Ball?" Adalia echoed, confused. Eleanor laughed, a light happy laugh that Adalia had missed. But it hadn't been more than a day since she heard it, hadn't it?_

_"Of course dear! For your engagement!" Eleanor's bright silver eyes lit up with excitement. Right, her engagement._

_"Ah, yes. It had slipped my mind." Adalia murmured, toying with her skirts as her mother pulled her raven hair into tight braids, wrapping them tight to Adalia's head._

_"It's all the ale you drank last eve. So unladylike." her mother retorted, securing the last pin with a little too much force, Adalia wincing in pain. "Just a little pain for beauty. Now, let's get you downstairs. Your soon to be husband is waiting for you." Eleanor was pulling Adalia, out the door and down the stairs. The Cousland daughter didn't feel like she had a moment to breathe. She was being rushed through the halls of her family home, and into the great hall. Men and women danced around her, a blur of bright coloured dresses and tunics._

_"Oh, there he is! Go on dear, go dance!" Eleanor pushed Adalia towards a sandy haired man smiling at her, Adalia nearly tripping over her dress. The man scooped her into his arms, joining the mass of flowing dancers. This all felt wrong, but the man... he was so familiar._

_"Hello darling. You look gorgeous." he brushed her cheek softly with his hand, her face flushing._

_"Why thank you, Alistair. You're looking mighty fine yourself." Adalia heard herself say. Alistair chuckled, planting a soft kiss on her forehead._

_Adalia's father was sitting at a table, speaking with a blonde haired man in brilliant gold armour, the men laughing. Was that a Grey Warden with them?_

_Alistair tightened his arm around her, pulling Adalia into his chest, and she deeply breathed in his scent. Spicy and woodsy._

_"I'm excited for our wedding, my love." he whispered in her ear, and Adalia couldn't help but smile as he continued. "Spending the rest of our lives falling asleep in each others arms, waking up next to each other every morning. Raising a family. It will be marvelous." Adalia pulled back at this last part, looking into his amber eyes._

_"But Grey Wardens cannot have children. You know this." she was puzzled as Alistair tossed his head back, laughing._

_"Grey Wardens? My love, are you thinking about joining Duncan? I don't think your father would let you do that. By the Maker, I wouldn't let you do that." he spun Adalia around, her eyes landing on her father again. Was that Cailan he was speaking with? Her stomach turned again, everything getting more blurry. This isn't right. Think, Adalia, think! She pulled back sharply, looking around the room. What was wrong with everyone's faces?_

_"Adalia?" Alistair called after her as she backed up, her eyes darting around frantically. No, this isn't real. She had been in the Circle Tower, they had been searching for the mages._

_"I fell asleep..." Adalia said out loud, still backing up._

_"Adalia? Is everything alright? You look a little pale." Bryce was standing behind her, his hand on her shoulder._

_"You aren't real. You're dead." Adalia whispered, pulling away. Bryce looked shocked, almost hurt._

_"No, my darling daughter. I'm right here." the Teryn reached for Adalia again, but she jerked back._

_"No. I'm in the Fade. You aren't real. None of this is real. Where is everyone? Where is Alistair?" she was getting frantic, confused._

_"My love, I'm right here. Everything is okay, Adalia. We're all here." Alistair opened his arms to her, trying to comfort her. Adalia reached behind her, pulling a long dagger from her father's belt and plunging it deep into Alistair's chest, his eyes widening._

_"You aren't real." she hissed in his face, pushing deeper. Blood trickled from his lips, his eyes filled with anger._

_"We could have been together forever. You could have been happy." his face morphed, the violet eyes of a desire demon staring down at Adalia, the hilt of the dagger still plunged between the demon's breasts. The background around them faded, and Adalia was standing on a rocky plain, her dress replaced by her armour, weapon on her back. The desire demon dropped to the ground, its last breath escaping. Adalia had to find the others; had to find Alistair._

* * *

Adalia could see the gates of Redcliffe from her spot on top of a hill. She had left Denerim immediately after her fight with Alistair, and knew they would be several days behind her. She had stolen a horse from the stables, and taken off with little more than her armour and weapons, and her dog. She had rode hard for five days, barely stopping to sleep or rest her horse. The air was cold, the ground covered in several inches of snow making sleep difficult when an inn wasn't available.

Adalia had passed Riordan on her way, the Grey Warden having left after the Landsmeet, but she had taken precautions to avoid him; Arl Eamon was riding at his side, and she had little patience for the man right now. Adalia pulled her cloak tightly around herself and steered her horse from the hill and into the town, making a line straight for the tavern. Around her people were bustling, Owen working to arm every able man. Adalia tied her horse up, entering the bar with Perses on her heels.

"Ah, no dogs!" Lloyd snapped, then realized who had entered. "Ah, my apologies, Warden. Your hound is welcome, as are you." Perses snorted in approval, dropping down near an empty table.

"A pint of ale, and food. And a room for the night." Adalia sat in a chair next to the dog, dropping her weapons on the wooden bench. The bartender nodded, hurrying back to the counter. Adalia swung her feet up, stretching out, her muscles aching. She slid a few coins across the table when Lloyd came back, and took a deep drink of the ale. It was warm, but she was so parched it didn't matter. The bowl of soup the man placed in front of her smelled better than anything she had eaten in days, and she hungrily dug into it. She knew she should head to the castle, but she needed a night to rest. They wouldn't be expecting her a few days, anyway. Adalia finished her meal, leaning back against the wall. She was aware of the eyes on her, watching her with awe and caution. Perses groaned from the floor, staring up at her with big brown eyes. Adalia reached down, scratching behind his ear.

"Alright boy, let's go then." She gathered up her supplies, heading up the steep stairs to her room. Perses pushed his way into the room in front of her, jumping up onto the large bed. Adalia chuckled as mabari rolled around on his back, his long tongue hanging out of the side of his mouth. She dropped her pack by the door, shedding her armour and letting it fall to the floor.

"Dios mio, I would hate to see what your home looks like." Adalia didn't need to turn around to know who was leaning against the window.

"You forget, Zevran, I don't have a home." Adalia looked over at Perses, who was still flopped over the bed. "Worst war hound ever." she whispered to him, and the dog cocked his head to the side, Zevran chuckling softly.

"Aren't you the least bit curious as to why I am here?" Zevran moved to sit on the sill of the window, his arm casually draped over his bent knee.

"Not overly. You were obviously sent to watch me, the question is just from whom? If it was Alistair..." Zevran snorting cut her off.

"Mi señora, when has that cretin ever willingly asked me to do anything? No, I left him pouting in his study with that black eye you gave him. Wynne sent me to make sure you didn't do something irrational." Adalia sighed heavily, sitting on the edge of the bed.

"I'm not going to do anything, Zev, other than the task that is required of me. All I want right now is a hot bath and rest. I can worry about everything else in the morning." she looked up at Zevran, Adalia's silver eyes sad and tired. The elf nodded, rising from his seat.

"Then I will meet you at the castle in the morning. But be there early, lest you want me appearing in your bedroom again."

"It's not the first time, and probably not the last." Adalia said, closing her eyes. When she opened them again, the assassin was gone, the cold winter wind blowing through the open window.

* * *

Adalia awoke just as the sun was beginning to show over the horizon, moving slowly as she dressed and repacked the few belongings she carried with her. She was making her down up the steep hill from the tavern when she saw a young fire haired man running towards her.

"It's you! The Grey Warden! Andraste's mercy that you got here when you did. I thought for sure these monsters were going to get me!" Adalia looked at the man, confused, and took a few more steps down the hill towards the village.

"What monsters are you talking about?" she asked, peering over his shoulder.

"Darkspawn!" the young man frantically turned, pointing towards town ahead. "They're in the village. They're everywhere!" Adalia took a few more steps down the hill so the village came into view. Sure enough, there they were, the faint song beginning to fill her head.

"Where is everyone?" she asked, turning back to the man, the shouts of the few guards fighting filling her ears.

"They all fled into the castle this morning as the darkspawn arrived. I thought I could make it to my home and back before they made it to the village, but it took me too long to get down here. What a relief it was to hear that you were in the tavern!" Adalia dropped her sack, drawing her swords.

"Get to safety. Send as many people as you can to help." The young man nodded, turning to flee towards a set of houses nearby. Adalia sprinted down the hill, Perses dashing in front of her. She watched him leap onto the nearest darkspawn, blood spraying from the creature's throat. Adalia dashed past him, plunging her sword through the back of a genlock, using her foot to kick the corpse from her blade. She turned, seeing a young soldier being over taken by two darkspawn, another soldier trying to pull one off of him. Adalia ran a hurlock through before taking care of the one the soldier was struggling with, slicing its throat so deeply she nearly beheaded it.

"Are you alright?" she offered the man her hand, pulling him to his feet. She nodded, picking up his blade.

"There's just so many of them. They all seem to be coming from the docks." he said, pointing behind a row of houses. Adalia nodded, looking at the sight in front of her. Guards were trying to cut down armed skeletons, but the corpses just kept appearing. A shriek was pulling a screaming man apart limb from limb, villagers desperately trying to defend themselves.

"Go to the docks, take as many people with you as you can. Start defending from there. I'll do what I can here." the two guards nodded, turning to the lake. "Use fire!" she yelled after them, the guards signaling to Adalia that they had heard her. She turned back to the scene in front of her, quickly entering the chaos. Perses was busy tearing down as many darkspawn as he could, his muzzle soaked in blood. She fought hard with the guards, the bodies of darkspawn piling up. She could hear shouts from the docks, and she hoped the few men that went down there were doing alright. Adalia was disposing of a darkspawn when the shouting of a soldier and the heavy vibration of the ground drew her attention away.

"Grey Warden!" the man yelled, and Adalia turned a split second too late. A huge hand wrapped around her abdomen, the ogre lifting her wriggling self up so they were eye level. The beast snarled, the smell of its hot breath nearly causing Adalia to vomit. Adalia struggled, freeing her right arm. The ogre squeezed tighter, the air escaping Adalia's chest. She reached behind her, desperately grasping for a dagger tucked into the back of her belt. She felt the hilt on the tips of her fingers, and she struggled to pull it out. The ogre screamed into Adalia's face, and tossed her to the side. Adalia crashed into a pile of crates, a hot searing pain filling her body.

"My lady, are you alright?" a soldier was standing over her, panic in his face.

"I... I think so. Help me up." Adalia went to lift her arm, and pain flooded through her arm.

"Warden, you're injured." the soldier said, gently lifting her. A shard of wood stuck through her shoulder, and she touched it lightly with the tips of her fingers.

"Pull it out." she told the man, turning her head away.

"P-pardon? M'lady, I..."

"Pull it out!" Adalia demanded, her face flushing. The soldier nodded slowly, grasping the piece of wood with one hand, bracing Adalia's shoulder with the other. Adalia watched as a group of men attacked the ogre, swinging fishing nets over its head. The ogre tripped to the ground, the men stabbing at the beast as it howled and tossed.

"One..." the soldier counted, Adalia bracing herself the best she could.

"Two..." his grip tightened on the shard, the pain flaring.

"Three." with a sharp pull the soldier yanked out the broken piece of crate, Adalia grunting in pain. Her knees buckled, but Adalia stood strong, resisting the urge to collapse to the ground.

The soldiers that she sent down to the docks were coming back, and the few darkspawn that were still lingering were being cut down where they stood.

"The castle! The darkspawn are attacking the castle!" it was the red haired boy from earlier, standing at the top of the hill.

"Oh for the love of the Maker." Adalia cursed, dragging herself forward. She picked her swords up from the blood soaked ground, dirt caked on the blades, and made the way up the hill. The wound to her shoulder was bleeding profusely, and Adalia cursed again under her breath. Despite the cold weather she could feel the tunic she wore under the armour begin to soak through, though she wasn't entirely sure it was sweat. Ahead of her stood a dozen or so darkspawn, all of whom realized her presence at once. Adalia looked down at Perses, who snarled, crouching low.

"Here we go again."

* * *

Alistair passed through the gates of Castle Redcliffe, his eyes darting back and forth. Darkspawn corpses everywhere.

"Ah, my lord, you're here. Thank goodness." a Redcliffe guard rushed forward to meet them, the lone one in the courtyard.

"What on earth happened here?" Alistair asked, dismounting his horse.

"We were attacked. Riordan arrived just before the darkspawn. I was told he had urgent news, and to send out patrols to watch for your arrival. Then we were attacked. That was six nights ago." Alistair kicked at one of the frozen corpses, the thing still looking alive. Well, as alive as a darkspawn could.

"Take us inside. No more delays." the guard nodded, turning to lead the group up the stairs.

"Right away Ser. I will take you to the hall. Everyone will be waiting there for you." Alistair followed the man quickly, snow crunching under his boots.

The hall was dimly lit at he entered, his eyes trying to adjust to the light.

"It's a relief to see you well, Alistair. Or should I say your Majesty." Arl Eamon bowed slightly, and Alistair heard someone scoff in the corner. He turned slightly to see Adalia perched on a chair, her arm heavily bandaged, a cup of what he could only assume was ale in the other. She gave him a look that made his stomach turn and looked away from him.

"No, no, I wouldn't say that, not just yet anyway." Alistair said, pulling his heavy gauntlets off and tossing them on a table. "It's a blood bath out there. How did you manage to hold them off?"

"The Grey Warden defeated them all." Arl Eamon said, nodding in Adalia's direction. She took another swig out of the cup, her eyes still burning through him.

"Heaven has no rage like love to hatred turned, nor hell a fury like a woman scorned." Zevran's said loud enough for Alistair to hear, the assassin standing protectively close to Adalia.

"You mean the Warden did them all in? Well, doesn't she have quite the pair on her." Oghren said from behind Alistair, having apparently joined the party.

"The darkspawn that attacked Redcliffe where relatively few in numbers, I'm afraid. It was assumed the horde was marching in this direction. But that is not true." Riordan said from his seat at the end of the table.

"Riordan tells us that the bulk of the horde is, in fact, heading towards Denerim. They are perhaps two days away from the capital."

"What?" Alistair and Adalia echoed, both of them staring at Riordan.

"Are we sure? I mean, if that's true..."

"I ventured in close enough to "listen is," as it were. I am quite certain." Riordan nodded.

"Then we march at once." Adalia was on her feet now, but Zevran stopped her, forcing her to sit back down.

"There is, I'm afraid, one other piece of news that is of even greater concern. The Archdemon has shown itself. The dragon is at the head of the horde." Riordan shook his head, staring down at the table.

"Maker preserve us." Teagan whispered.

"But we cannot reach Denerim within two days, can we? It's too far." It was almost as though Alistair was talking to himself. He watched as Teagan began pacing the floor in front of the hearth, stroking his chin thoughtfully.

"We must begin a forced march to the capital immediately with what we have. Denerim must be defended at all costs." Eamon said, drawing everyone's attention back to him.

"I agree. We're collected an army, now let's use it." Adalia said from the corner, dropping her now empty cup on a small table near her.

"The horde must be defeated, but the Archdemon is our true target, and only a Grey Warden can defeat the Archdemon. We must go as soon as possible." Riordan advised, folding his arms across his chest.

"Then we march, and hope the army we're collected here gives us the chance we need. Eamon, how long before they can set out?" Alistair asked Eamon.

"By daybreak." Alistair groaned inwardly. It wasn't that late, meaning they would be spending the night here. He wanted to get a head start, but he knew no one would allow that.

"Then let's get them ready. I won't let all those people die without giving them a chance."

"I can leave now, without the army." Adalia spoke up again from the corner, and for the first time Alistair noticed just how pale and ill looking she was. His eyes darted back to her arm, and the thick padding of bandages. What had happened? He felt the assassins golden eyes on him, and Alistair stared back, angry.

"To reach the Archdemon we have to break through the horde. To do that, we need the army. I see no other way, and no point in you going alone. You'll get yourself killed." Riordan advised her, Alistair watching as Adalia scowled, sinking deeper into the chair.

"I will give the orders at once, and notify you the moment we are ready." Teagan bowed, exiting from the room.

"I would like you meet with you and Adalia before you retire. We have Grey Warden business to discuss." Riordan looked at Alistair, but was speaking to the both of them.

"I'll show you to your room. I suggest you get some rest, while you can. You'll need it." Arl Eamon said, placing a hand on Alistair's shoulder, and gently guiding him out of the room. Alistair cast another glance back, Adalia slouched over in the chair, her back to him and the elven assassin at her side.


	14. Chapter 14: Dethbed

**Chapter Fourteen**: Dethbed

* * *

Adalia slowly dragged herself up the stone stairs, her feet heavy. She stopped, leaning her face against the cold stone wall, her eyes closed. The winds howled outside, winter setting in with the ferocity of a dragon. She tensed when she heard the familiar footsteps heading her way down the carpeted hall. Why wouldn't he just disappear?

"Ah, there you are." Alistair looked at her cautiously, as though she may lash out at him again. "Are you feeling alright? Riordan wanted to speak with us, but if you aren't feeling well..." Alistair didn't have time to finish his sentence as Adalia shoved herself away from the stone wall, marching to her senior Warden's quarters.

"Adalia, would you please talk to me?" Alistair was near to begging as he caught up to her. Adalia ignored him again, opening the door to the room.

"There you are." Riordan said, not looking up from the pages on his desk. "We must talk about the days to come. You are both new to the Grey Wardens, and you may not have been thoroughly informed as to how the Archdemon is slain."

"So you mean there's more to it than just chopping off it's head?" Alistair couldn't tell if Adalia was being serious or not.

"So Duncan did not tell you." Riordan shook his head, as though disappointed, rubbing his eyes. "Tell me, have you ever wondered why the Grey Wardens are needed to defeat the Darkspawn?"

"I thought necessary may have been an exaggeration." Adalia retorted, Alistair watching as she leafed through a book. Was she even taking this seriously?

"It's no exaggeration, I'm afraid." Riordan moved to a window over looking the courtyard, his eyes watching the soldiers scurry about. Alistair wondered if he was completely oblivious to Adalia's sarcasm or just simply ignoring the bitter Warden.

"The Archdemon may be slain as any other Darkspawn, but should any other than a Grey Warden do the slaying it will not be enough." Riordan continued, his hot breath fogging up the glass of the window. "The essence of the beast will pass through the taint to the nearest Darkspawn..." the grey haired man paused, turning to look at the two young Wardens. "But if the Archdemon is slain by a Grey Warden, its essence travels into the Warden instead." The room went silent as Alistair and Adalia processed his words.

"That... doesn't sound very healthy." Adalia said, almost hesitantly. Alistair would have laughed, but he was slowly understanding what it was the Riordan was saying.

"The Darkspawn is a soulless vessel, a Grey Warden is not. The essence of the demon is destroyed, and so is the Grey Warden." Riordan's voice softened as he said this, his words confirming what Alistair was thinking.

"So the Warden that kills the Archdemon dies." Alistair confirmed, his stomach dropping as Riordan nodded.

"Yes. Without the Archdemon the Blight ends. There is no other way." Silence filled the room again, and Alistair heard the book Adalia had been looking through close.

"Then I will take the final blow myself." Adalia's voice was barely audible, as though she wasn't sure of her self. Riordan turned to the young woman, an small unhappy smile crossing his dark features.

"It warms my heart to see such courage, but do not hurry to sacrifice your life, Adalia. If possible the final blow should be mine to take. I am the eldest, and the taint will not spare me much longer." Adalia opened her mouth to say something, but Riordan held up a hand, continuing, "But if I fail, then yes, the deed falls to you. The Blight must be stopped now, or it will destroy all of Ferelden before the remaining Grey Wardens can assemble." Riordan sighed, rubbing his eyes again. "Enough of this. There will be much to do tomorrow and little time to rest before it. I will let you return to your rooms." Adalia nodded, turning to move towards the doors, but Alistair's voice made her pause.

"I will see you once the army is ready to march, then. I guess the ends soon, one way or another." Adalia glanced over her shoulder to see Alistair and Riordan shake hands, brothers in arms preparing to die.

"That is does, my friend. That is does." Adalia quietly slipped out of the room, knowing what she would have to do.

* * *

Morrigan had followed Adalia back to her room, but the Warden wasn't there. Morrigan could hear her speaking to the other Grey Warden, Riordan, she thought his name was, in the room across the hall. She already knew what they were discussing, and turned to watch the orange flames in the hearth lap the air. She heard someone enter the room behind her.

"Morrigan." Adalia acknowledged, throwing her pack onto her bed.

"How was your conversation with the Warden?" she turned when Adalia ignored her question.

"You are in danger, Warden. I have a plan, you see. A way out. A loop in your hole. I know what happens when the Archdemon dies. I know a Grey Warden must be sacrificed, and that sacrifice could be you. I have come to tell you that this does not need to be." Morrigan moved towards Adalia as the Warden's head snapped up, silver eyes on yellow.

"And how do you know about this?" Adalia asked, tossing a few items into her pack.

"I know a great many things, but how I know is not as important as what I offer. I offer a way out, a way out for all the Grey Wardens. A ritual, performed on the eve of battle in the dark of night." Adalia sighed, shaking her head. She didn't like where this was going. She moved across the room, picking up a few small blades from a stand against the wall, turning them in her hands.

"Nothing comes without a price, Morrigan. You and I both know that. So what kind of witchcraft are you up to?" Morrigan feigned a hurt look, her hand covering her heart.

"Adalia, you wound me so. My price may not be so unbearable. Especially if there is much to be gained. All I ask is that you listen to my offer, nothing more."

"I'm losing patience, Morrigan. Speak quickly, but I promise nothing." Morrigan nodded, sitting on the edge of Adalia's bed with the grace of a cat. She crossed her legs delicately, watching Adalia move about the room.

"What I propose is this: convince Alistair to lay with me here tonight, and from this ritual a child will be conceived within me. The child will bare the taint, and when the Archdemon is slain, its essence will seek the child like a beacon. At this early stage the child can absorb that essence, and not perish. The Archdemon is destroyed, with no Warden dying in the process." Adalia though she was going to vomit. Ask Alistair to sleep with the witch. Adalia shuddered, not turning to look at Morrigan.

"Why aren't you talking to Alistair himself about this." Morrigan scoffed at the thought.

"He despises me. You know this. He rarely listens to reason, but he would listen to you, even still. You of all people could influence him. Think about what I offer you, the chance to avoid death. Or better yet, the chance to slay the Archdemon and live as a hero. No Warden has ever done this. In return I would conceive a child, one that would be born with the soul of an old gold. After this is done, I will walk away, and you do not follow, ever. The child will be mine to raise as I wish." Adalia spun to face Morrigan, disgusted. She threw a book into her pack, closing it.

"No, I will not agree to this. I just finished telling His Highness to stop acting like such a puppet, and here you are, telling me to treat him as one. What you are asking is not only disgusting, but wrong on so many levels, and I refuse to do it!" Adalia was yelling, and Morrigan was on her feet, glaring down at the smaller woman.

"Do not let your foolish pride condemn you! No Grey Warden asked for the sacrifice that is now being demanded of them, and I offer you all a way out." Morrigan's eyes flared, magic coursing through them. Adalia's door flew open, Alistair entering with a near panicked look on his face.

"What in Andraste's name is going on?" he asked, looking back and forth between the two women.

"My answer is no. No reconsidering. No." Adalia hissed at Morrigan, her teeth bared.

"Then you are a fool. I will not stand by and watch you waste this opportunity! Die if you think it is worthwhile, or be overshadowed. I care not." Morrigan crossed her arms across her barely clothed chest, turning her chin to the air as a stubborn child would.

"Of course you care. You aren't getting your way. Go, leave now, if that is what you want. But I go into battle knowing that one of us will die." Adalia slung her pack over her shoulder, whistling for Perses to follow her. "I will be at the inn for the night." And with that, Adalia left the room, Alistair and Morrigan watching her leave.

* * *

Adalia passed the door to Alistair's room, pausing as she glanced over her shoulder. She could hear him bickering with Morrigan in the room she had just left. She quietly opened the door, slipping into Alistair's chambers. She dropped her heavy pack on the bed, pulling out Duncan's cloth wrapped shield. She tossed it onto the feather filled mattress, pulling off her gauntlets. She pulled the engagement ring Alistair had given her out of the bottom of her pack, tossing that onto the bed beside the shield. Her fingers grazed over the petals of the rose, and she pulled it out, staring down at the ruby coloured petals. She moved to go toss it into the forming pile, then stopped herself, looking at it again. She tucked the rose into the breastplate of the armour Alistair had made of her, keeping it out of harms way. She would keep it as a good luck charm for now. She could burn it later. She picked up her pack, peering around the entrance of the door to ensure no one was near by, before sneaking out, making her way to the door of the estate.


	15. Authors Note

Author Note:

I just wanted to post that I rewrote nearly every chapter. The story is done, written on several scraps of paper lying around my house, but there were a lot of details that I wanted to add.

I also wanted to thank ItSMeAmbeR, Ashestobones, Jesi, Sasse1892, wildcat717, Krystinna, and Raven Jadewolfe for reviewing, and to anyone who added this to their favourites/alerts!

I'm hoping to get more chapters up a little more quickly.

Now just to gather all those pages up...

-SadieV


	16. Chapter 15: Keep Em Coming

**C**hapter **F**ifteen: Keep Em Coming

* * *

They were amassed less than an hours march outside of Denerim, the forces gathering as they watched. Dwarves from Orzammar armed to the teeth, Dalish archers, an array of mages, their staffs held high. Knights bearing the crests of Redcliff, Highever, Dragon's Peak, West Hill and others gathered in groups. Hundreds of men and women, all able and ready.

"We have gathered all forces we can." Arl Eamon said from his horse next to Adalia, the fawn coloured beast shifting nervously. Adalia watched as a father said good bye to his family, his young son weeping openly. The battle on the verge of beginning, and Adalia could see the darkspawn in the distance.

"The darkspawn horde is sure to reach the capital before us. So we must continue to race to Denerim, as quickly as we can. The lives of many thousands hang in the balance. We must not forsake them. You have gathered an army to replace the one lost at Ostagar, Grey Warden. Let us pray that it will be enough." Adalia nodded, not making eye contact with the man, her own horse swaying from side to side, hooves stomping at the packed dirt ground beneath them. She thought very little of the Arl now, considering him the reason her relationship with Alistair was over. She swung herself off her horse, handing the rein to a soldier standing close by. She moved through the swarm of bodies, looking for Zevran or Leliana, however her eyes fell on Alistair. He met her gaze, shifting uncomfortably but not breaking eye contact for what seemed like ages. Adalia watched as the heavily armoured man climbed up a large rock, standing precariously on the top. Soldiers began to stop, turning to stare at their new king, Adalia moving closer.

"Before us stands the might of the darkspawn horde!" Alistairs voice boomed over the crowd, all those that could hear him falling silent and listening intently. "Gaze upon them now, but fear them not!" Adalia was in front of Alistair now, staring up at the man. He looked down at her, gesturing to her.

"This woman standing her in front of me is a native of Ferelden!" Alistair moved down the rock until he could reach Adalia, grabbing her hand and pulling her up the steep incline behind him.

"Risen to the ranks of Grey Warden, she is proof that glory is within reach for us all. She has survived, despite the odds, and without her none of us would be here today!" Adalia could feel all the eyes on her, and feel her face flush. "Today, we save Denerim. Today, we avenge the death of my brother Cailan, but most of all today we show the Grey Wardens that we remember and honour their sacrifice!" Adalia watched Alistair in awe. This was a far cry from the timid, sarcastic man she knew. At that moment, she knew he would be the king Ferelden needed.

"For Ferelden!" voices echoes around her, a roar that she was sure could be heard in Antiva. Alistair had his eyes on her again, and just noticed just how sad he truly looked. She carefully jumped off the outcropping, Alistair behind her.

"Adalia." he called to her, stopping her from disappearing among the once again moving bodies. She turned to face him, and found him extending his arm, waiting patiently for her to accept. She was aware that eyes were still on them. She took a step forward, grasping onto his forearm. The last thing anyone needed right now was to see tension between the two people leading them to war.

"In war, victory." he said, squeezing her arm.

"In peace, vigilance." she replied before dropped her arm back to her side. Alistair nodded gravely, speaking again before she had the chance to disappear.

"Adalia, the ring I gave you. You left it behind in Redcliffe..." Alistair paused, as though planning on saying something else.

"I don't have a need for it anymore, now do I? Scrap it. Or find another piece of arm candy to don it until you tire of her as well." Adalia said so only the two of them could hear, this time succeeding in vanishing into the crowd. Alistair could do nothing but stare until a soldier reminded him that they had to move, the cold feeling of the ring looped onto a chain burning against his chest.

* * *

They didn't even make it into Denerim before they were attacked. The darkspawn were large in numbers, but the army was far from outnumbered. Adalia had long abandoned her horse, and was now deep in the swarm of darkspawn, her blades slicing furiously at the beasts. She was surrounded by genlocks, but the short monsters were not armed for close combat, most carrying crudely made bows and arrows. She hacked down two more beasts, a flash of gold to her left catching her attention. As she turned to look a blast of energy hit her square in the chest, knocking her clear off her feet. She flew backwards, hitting the hard dirt ground hard, the air knocked out of her lungs, her head pounding from the contact. She groaned, rolling to her side and pulling herself back to her feet. Duncan's dagger was still clasped in her hand, but her longsword was laying in the dust a few feet away. Adalia moved to the sword, and another blast of energy hit her as she bent for the weapon, her body frozen in place. From the corner of her eye she saw the flash of gold again, Alistair moving quickly towards her. Adalia could feel the flash of energy from the young king as he smited the emissary, Adalia nearly toppling face forward as the spell was eliminated. Alistair grabbed her, steadying her.

"Are you alright?" he asked, his hand still on her waist. It was just now she had noticed he was carrying Duncan's shield with him. Fitting that they both carried belongings of their former commander.

"Fine." Adalia replied shortly, scooping the sword off the ground. "We should go find Riordan." she said, turning her back to him. The soldiers were keeping the remaining darkspawn at bay, and Adalia saw Riordan directing groups of armed men and woman into the city. He nodded in her direction as the two young Wardens approached him. Adalia could see the smoke pluming from inside the city already, Denerim in ruins. The smell of copper filled the air, and black ichor coated the weapons and armour of everyone in eye sight.

"You've managed to fight your way to the gates. We're doing better than I hoped." Adalia couldn't help but notice the pessimistic tone in Riordan's voice.

"That will change quickly." Sten commented as he approached, Adalia noting the remainder of the group followed behind them. Morrigan had kept her word, disappearing after the confrontation with Adalia after the Landsmeet, and Adalia would be lying if she said she was happy the witch was gone.

"We're outnumbered three to one. Bloody nug runners." Oghren comment, spitting on the ground in disgust.

"What do we do now, Riordan? You have a plan, I assume?" Wynne asked, leaning heavily on her staff.

"The army will not last long, so we'll need to move quickly to reach the Archdemon." the senior Grey Warden turned to Adalia, his light blue eyes serious. "I suggest taking Alistair and two others with you into the city. Anyone you don't bring can remain here to prevent more darkspawn from entering Denerim on our tails."

"And how are we going to fight a flying dragon?" Adalia asked, her eyes to the sky, as though expecting the beast to suddenly fly overhead.

"We need to reach a high point in the city. I'm thinking the top of Fort Drakon might work." Riordan said, following her gaze.

"The top of...? You want us to draw its attention?" Alistair sounded completely dumbfounded. Swarms of people were still moving around them, some fighting darkspawn, some finding their way into the city. Riordan watched them for a moment before turning to face the group.

"We have little choice, though I warn you that as soon as we engage the beast it will call all its generals to help it. I can sense two of them in Denerim. You may wish to seek them out before going into the Fort."

"I'm sure if we did slay them it would stop the darkspawn in the city from doing a lot more damage." Leliana comment quietly, as though talking to herself. Adalia just nodded, looking over the group in front of her.

"Alistair can stay here," she began to say, but the young king quickly interrupted her.

"What? You want me to stay here? No, no way. I'm going with you." his voice was raising, drawing glances from the soldiers around them.

"Alist-" Adalia began, but was again cut off.

"No. You are not keeping me out of the battle. The Grey Wardens are needed to kill the Archdemon. I am a Grey Warden. I am coming with you." Alistair slammed a foot into the packed ground, like a child having a temper tantrum.

"Alistair, your people are going to need you. It's too big of a risk for you to come. I'm only taking people I need to help me fight." Adalia raised her voice to match his, Riordan rubbing at his face, annoyed.

"You don't need me to help you fight? I am coming. There is no discussion."

"Fine. If you will stop acting like a child, then fine. Just make sure you watch my back in there." Alistair winced at her accusatory tone. "Wynne, Zevran, you're with me. Leliana, you, Oghren, and Sten stay here, take Perses with you, and stay with Riordan."

"When from the blood of battle the Stone has fed, let the heroes prevail and the blighters lie dead. As one of the blighters, I sodding salute you. Let's show them our hearts and then show them theirs!" Oghren cheered, pumping a fist in the air. Zevran moved to Adalia's side, a crooked grin on his face.

"Ah, off to slay the Archdemon. I'm excited to say hello. He never writes anymore." the elf joked, before clapping a hand on Adalia's shoulder. "Live well my friend. Live gloriously." Adalia returned the gesture, nodding at her friend.

"Let us go, then, and get this over with." Adalia said her goodbyes, before leading her group through the cheering soldiers, their cries of blessings filling her ears.

* * *

They fought their way through Denerim, Alistair pausing momentarily in front of Goldanna's burning house. The Chantry was reduced to smoldering char, and screams filled the air. The Knights of Redcliff aided them in clearing out the city and the Alienage, the darkspawn falling under their blades.

As they crossed the long bridge making their way to the palace district, the Archdemon showed itself again, flying dangerously low over their heads. Swords were quickly drawn, all eyes on the beast. It swooped down low again, a blast of fire tearing through the wooden structure they were standing on.

"Move. We need to get to the Fort!"Adalia yelled over the noise, pointing to the heavy wooden gates. The team headed for them, running up the steep incline to the wealthier district of Denerim.

* * *

The group entered the palace district, the towers of Fort Drakon visible in the near distance. Adalia weaved her way through the dead bodies on the ground, noting that a majority of them were unarmed humans, villagers who hadn't fled in time. She made her way through the stone courtyard, her weapons drawn, nearing a set of stairs leading up past the guard posts. An ogre stood at the top, screaming at the sight of the nearing warriors. Adalia turned to look back at her companions before advancing and noticed a large group of dwarves swarming into the courtyard through the gates after her. Back up. Adalia charged up the stairs, a large chunk of stone flying over her head. She watched as it slammed into a group of dwarves, crushing two of them underneath it.

Adalia swung at the ogre, her blade sinking into its gut. The beast swung it's arm, knocking Adalia backwards down the stone stairs. She recovered herself quickly, waiving Zevran off her and pointing to the hurlocks surrounding the ogre, as though defending the beast that towered over them. Adalia attacked again, driving both the sword and her dagger deep into the beast, and pulled herself up it, as though climbing a tree. A large, living, moving, screaming tree. The beast clawed at her, but Adalia swung up onto its shoulder, driving her dagger into its eye. The ogre screamed, trying desperately to get her off. She pulled her dagger out, plunging it again, deeper. This time the beast stopped screaming, and dropped to the ground. Adalia barely had enough time to scamper away before it tumbled down the stairs, the few dwarves remaining on the lower level quickly leaping out it the way.

The few hurlocks had been long bested, and Adalia stood still for a moment, observing the scene.

"Search them quickly. We need healing poultices, lyrium, anything that would be of use. Move fast." she directed, her companions nodding as they scattered in all directions, checking the rancid corpses. Adalia moved to the well sitting in the middle of the battle scene, pulling the bucket up. She checked the water before taking a long sip, not realizing how parched she had been. Smoke filled her air, and her eyes burned and watered in protest. She was about to take another sip of water when she felt that all too familiar sinking feeling in her stomach.

"More darkspawn!" she yelled out, pointing across the stone courtyard towards another set of stairs. A group of hurlocks were rushing up the stairs to the topmost level of the palace courtyard, chasing a group of Dwarven soldiers. Adalia followed in suit, cutting down two of the beasts from behind, not noticing the archer to her far left. It let an arrow go, hitting Adalia in the leg. She screamed out, hitting the ground. She cursed at the harshly made thing, the black fletchings all but gone. She pulled it out, letting out a small grunt as her blood dripped down her blue armour.

"Adalia, what happened?" Alistair and Wynne ran to her side, Wynne hovering over the wound.

"I took an arrow to the knee." she stated the obvious. Wynne's warm healing magic filled her, and Adalia moved her leg. It would be stiff, but it was better than a gaping wound. A small dagger whizzed over head, just missing Alistair's shoulder, hitting a lone genlock in the center of the forehead, the beast dropping at Adalia's feet. Alistair shot a glare in the direction of the Crow heading towards them, a smirk on the blonde elf's face.

"You could have hit me with that." Alistair whined, narrowing his eyes.

"And what a loss that would have been." Zevran retorted back, only half joking as her pulled his dagger from the beast, a look of disgust on his face as the black ichor sprayed his leather boots.

"That's treason."Alistair muttered under his breath, pulling Adalia to her feet. At this Zevran did chuckled, joining Adalia's side.

"Ah, but you forget, your Highness, that I am not even Ferelden." Alistair opened his mouth to say something, but Adalia interrupted them.

"Now is not the time, you two! I don't know if you realized it, but there are very few darkspawn here. That worries me." she watched as they glanced around, Wynne nodding in agreement.

"I was thinking the same thing. We need to get into that tower, as soon as possible." the elder mage said, moving towards the final set of stairs leading into the entrance of Fort Drakon. Adalia could already hear the high pitched screams of the shrieks, a chill running down her spine. She had barely made it to the top of the stairs when Zevran suddenly stopped her, pointing to the ground.

"Apparently our little friends have leered the art of 'atrapar a hacer.' " When Alistair shot the elf a questioning look, he replied, "Traps." Sure enough, Adalia had nearly walked right into a trip wire, a thick layer of grease coating the area in front of them, enough to cause serious damage. Zevran made quick work of the trap, gesturing that it was safe to go through. Adalia helped Wynne maneuver through the slippery surface, catching Alistair nearly fall a few times from the corner of her eye.

Adalia turned the corner, the gates of Fort Drakon within reach, when she heard a voice from above call out,

"AMBUSH!"

The dwarf was right. Arrows flew from over her head as legions of darkspawn swarmed out of the gates. Adalia took a quick glance around her. Two Wardens, an elf, a mage, and a few handfuls of dwarves and soldiers. She cursed under her breath, loose strands of her raven hair blowing into her face. She brushed it back, charging into the fight. She sliced low, aiming for the unprotected knee area, creatures falling around her.

"Adalia, look out!" she head Wynne call, and she turned to look. A searing pain filled her head, her hands tentatively reaching up to try to feel what it was, but the world went black around her as she collapsed to the ground.

* * *

_Ostagar was in ruins. More so than before the war. Darkspawn camps littered the once busy landscape, bodies of soldiers and darkspawn alike lay dead and frozen in the snow._

_Adalia had been completely surprised when Alistair told her he wanted to go back to Ostagar, and his reaction made it clear that it was written across her face._

_"I need to go back. Cailan and Duncan were never... were never found. I want to go, try to get some closure."_

_Adalia had agreed, and now here they stood, Morrigan and Zevran at their backs._

_"You've got to hand it to the darkspawn. They sure know how to make a place feel desolate and foreboding." Alistair comment, snow fluttering down from the grey skies._

_"Where are we going?" Adalia asked, not looking away from the scene in front of her. "I mean, I don't really know where to start." a guttural howl in the distance drew their attention. Of course darkspawn would still be here._

_"I guess that's a start." Alistair climbed down the crumbling stone pathway, sword drawn and ready._

_Adalia had finished killing the last of the darkspawn in the area before she noticed that Alistair wasn't at her back like he usually was. It took her a few minutes to find him, hidden behind a crudely made shelter, crouched over a darkspawn corpse. As Adalia approached she noticed the gold greaves he held in his hands._

_"I don't know whether to laugh or cry, but they're clearly Cailan's. There could be no doubt. The creature was wearing them." The group waited patiently for Alistair to tuck the greaves into his pack, and face them. "We need to find him."_

_They moved on, Adalia trying to pick out familiar places, but everything was in shambles. She recognized the forgemasters quarters, where Daveth had leered at her. The body of the forgemaster lay against a wooden crate, his eyes open and staring blankly._

_They located Cailan's shield on the body of a hurlock in the same area where Adalia had first met Alistair, bickering at a mage. Ser Elric had said he buried a key around this area under a statue, so the group spread out, looking for it. Zevran found it buried in a shallow hole, tucked inside a soft leather pouch. They made their way around the frozen wastes until they found what they were looking for; Cailan's chest. The remains of his royal tent lay in tatters around it. The click of the key turning in the lock echoes in the dead silent waste land, Alistair slowly opening the chest. He pulled out a long greatsword, the runes inscribed down the blade glowing brightly._

_"Now that is a sexy sword." Zevran whistled quietly._

_"It was my father's. I don't know why it's locked in the chest. Cailan would have taken it into battle."_

_"What are these?" Adalia asked, pulling a few loose pages from the chest, eyes skimming over them._

_"Well?" Alistair interrupted her reading._

_"Their letters. These two are from Empress Celene, offering assistance for the blight, and peace between Ferelden and Orlais. This one is from Eamon, begging Cailan to not ride into battle, and..." Adalia paused, rereading the letter in case she had misread it the first time._

_"And?" Alistair probed, peering over her shoulder._

_"And suggesting that it may be time Cailan put Anora aside. Apparently she is getting too old to bare Cailan an heir to the Theirin name." Alistair snorted uncharacteristically for him._

_"Considering these documents, it's a pity we didn't put more trust in Orlais and less in the kings own father-in-law."_

_They continued moving, heading to the bridge, Morrigan trailing behind them, constantly scanning the area around her._

_"My friend, you seem so paranoid. As though the Witch of the Wilds is going to pop out from behind a tree and yell 'BOO!'" Zevran joked, Morrigan scowling at the elf._

_"I am being aware of my surroundings, elf. Perhaps you should be doing the same."_

_"Guys, shhh." Adalia quieted them, her eyes turned upwards. There, hanging from a crudely constructed tower of sorts, was Cailan's naked body, arrows protruding from his frozen flesh._

_"Forgive us my king. Once we've flushed the darkspawn from their holes and bought ourselves some time, we'll be back to see you to the Maker." Alistair prayed under his breath, staring up at his brother. "We come back for him once we're done here. We'll go back to the Tower. See if we can find anything else."_

_They located Cailan's gauntlets and breastplate on the way to the entrance of the tower, Alistair storing the pieces safely._

_The Tower of Ishal loomed over them, two stone warriors guarding the entrance. Adalia pushed open heavy wood door, entering the place she had never hoped to be in again._

_"Down the hole and into the deep! I don't even want to imagine where that leads. How do we get down there?" Alistair asked, inching a little closer to the hole in the floor._

_"I say jump." Adalia suggested, pushing Alistair slightly, and laughing when the young man nearly crawled out of his skin._

_"Jump? You cant just.. jump! Not into a pit. A darkspawn pit. What if there is no bottom? What if you break your legs? What good would you be then?" Alistair asked almost frantically._

_"I think someone if afraid of heights." Zevran laughed, though Adalia noted that he didn't near the pit either._

_"Ali, you can see the bottom. Look." Adalia pointed, but Alistair just shook his head._

_"I'd rather not." Adalia laughed again, stepping to the edge of the hole. She turned, looking Alistair in the eyes as she stepped off the edge, into the depth below. She chucked as she saw Alistair on his knees, peering over the edge after her, before he finally climbed down, Zevran helping Morrigan down after them._

_The pillars supporting tower looked unstable, Adalia moving carefully around them to inspect the room. Sunlight streamed in through the holes in the walls, large chunks of stone missing._

_"'Dalia, behind you." Alistair called out, and Adalia turned, coming face to face with a spider standing larger than her. Adalia screamed, swinging her sword furiously. The beast eventually collapsed on the floor, Zevran and Alistair practically on the ground themselves as they laughed so hard._

_"One Warden afraid of heights, one of spiders!" Zevran gasped. Morrigan rolled her eyes in disgust before turning her back._

_"We're doomed." she muttered. Adalia composed herself, sheathing her sword._

_"Quiet down. That damn necromancer is down here somewhere. Let's go." Adalia made her way to the only exit in the room, the rest of the group catching up to her, Alistair still chuckling under his breath._

_They followed the tunnel, out of the tower, and right onto the battlefield. Alistairs eyes scanned the area, the dead silence eerie, but the random screech of a crow even more so._

_"What is it?" Adalia asked, noticing Alistair tense._

_"Crows. Don't like them." was all he offered as explanation._

_They moved down further into the battlefield, bodies and blood covering the ground. Adalia caught sight of the necromancer, pointing it out to the group. They moved to advance on it, but were quickly stopped in their tracks. The bodies of the dead began to rise around them, including that of a very angry ogre. It stormed for the group instantly, the four of them narrowly dodging it. Morrigan and Zevran went to work on the rising bodies, Alistair and Adalia set their aim on the ogre._

_"Alistair... look at the sword sticking out of it." Adalia called over to her fellow Warden. The ogre in front of them was the one that killed Cailan, the weapons Duncan had been carrying into battle buried deep in the creature's chest._

_The beast saw an opportunity to strike, swiping it's large hand at Alistair, crushing him in his grasp and pulling him up to face level. Adalia rushed towards the beast, shouting over her shoulder,_

_"Morrigan! Freeze the ogre!" the witch complied, a cold blast of wind hitting Adalia's back. She ignored the razor-like pain digging into the back of her head as she ran at the ogre, using an outcropping to propel herself up. Her blades dug into the creatures exposed back, the weapons opening large gashes as her body weight pulled them down to the ground. The beast dropped Alistair, turning to the young woman. It screamed at her, it's hot breath in Adalia's face. It gave Alistair a brief opportunity to strike the final blow, his blade crushing into the rotting corpses' head. Adalia pulled Duncans blades from the dead beast, wiping the ichor off on the tatters of clothing it wore, before sheathing the sword and dagger._

_"I'm not leaving these here." she said to no one in particular, but Alistair nodded in understanding. Zevran and Morrigan were now across the field taking care of the necromancer, stillness around the Wardens. Zevran came back to them holding Cailan's helm, the final piece of the dead king's armour._

_They stood under Cailan again, looking up at the former king._

_"They just left him here to rot. We need to do something." Alistair said quietly, Morrigan scoffing behind them._

_"You have a choice here. You can either bury him, and come back for the body when this is all done, or we can light a pyre. He is of noble blood, and deserves something other than this." Adalia said quietly. They hadn't located Duncan's body on the field, but in her heart Adalia knew he died doing his duty. Cailan, on the other hand, was strung up like a solstice decoration._

_"Do you think... is it possible to bury him? He was a good man, who hoped too much and died too young. I would rather bring the body back to Denerim, place it in a tomb next to Rowan. He deserves what honour we can grant him." Adalia noticed Zevran's confused expression._

_"Queen Rowan; Cailan's mother." she explained quietly, Alistair still staring up at his brother._

_"Ah, and what of King Maric's body?" Zevran asked equally as quiet. Adalia shook her head._

_"Lost at sea. Or, if you believe rumours, locked in an Orlesian prison." Alistair shot her a look at this, stopping the conversation immediately._

_"Help me get him down. We'll bury him for now, safely. I'll come back from him when the Blight is resolved." Alistair commanded._

_"What of his armour?" Adalia asked, the pieces still strapped to Alistair's back._

_"They'll come with me for now. They should be buried with him as well."_

_They left Ostagar later than night, the full moon high above their heads, their spirits somber._

* * *

"Wynne! WYNNE!" Alistair's voice was hoarse, and he saw the older woman already running to where Adalia had collapsed. Ire built inside his chest, and he sliced furiously, the berserk Oghren taught him building up. He chopped his way to Wynne, who was now leaning over Adalia, muttering under her breath. Blue magic flowed from her hands, surrounding Adalia for the umpteenth time since the battle had started. Alistair finally let out the breath he had been holding when Adalia sat upright, gasping for air.

"Oh, thank the Maker." Alistair muttered, his hand over his chest.

"What happened?" Adalia asked, rubbing the back of her head again. Blood covered her gauntlet, but she had no way of knowing whose it was.

"You just took a nasty hit to the head. Knocked you out cold." Wynne said, leaning on her staff for support. "Do you feel alright?" Wynne looked down at her, concerned. Adalia nodded, accepting yet another hand up from Alistair.

"I'm fine. I feel like I drank all of Ferelden out of ale last night, but I'm fine." she said, rubbing her head again.

"Then let's keep moving. The soldiers can clear this area out, we can head into the tower." Alistair said, moving to the gate. Adalia accepted her weapons back from Zevran, following as Alistair pulled the crank for the gate.

A dragon thrall landed in front of them as soon as the gates were up high enough for them to get in. Adalia watched as it tossed Zevran to the side, several dwarves charging at it.

Grand statues of former kings lay in ruins around them, the doors into the fort looming ahead.

One tower stood in between Adalia and the Archdemon.


End file.
